IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


I4S|22 
III  2.0 


MX    Mi 

Hf    MS 

u    I, 

MUi. 


1.8 


1.25      1.4   iiiji^ 

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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notot/Note*  tachniques  at  bibiiographiquas 


Tha  Inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
original  copy  avaiiabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibllographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  aignif  icantly  changa 
tha  uaual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  baiow. 


D 


D 


D 


X 


D 


D 


Coiourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  da  couiaur 


I     I   Covara  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagia 


Covara  raatorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  raataurte  at/ou  palllculia 


I     I   Covar  titia  misaing/ 


La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

Coiourad  mapa/ 

Cartaa  giographiquaa  an  couiaur 

Coiourad  inic  (i.a.  othar  than  biua  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  couiaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 

Coiourad  platas  and/or  iiiuatrationa/ 
Planchaa  at/ou  iiiuatrationa  an  couiaur 


Bound  with  othar  material/ 
RaiiA  avac  d'autraa  documanta 

Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  cauaar  da  I'ombra  ou  de  la 
distortion  la  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certalnas  pages  blanches  ajoutiaa 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dana  la  taxte, 
mais,  loraque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  fiimies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentairas  supplAmantaires: 


The 
tol 


L'Inatitut  a  microfilm^  la  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'll  lui  a  AtA  poaaibia  de  aa  procurer.  Lea  d6taiia 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  aont  paut-Atre  unlquea  du 
point  da  vue  bibliographiqua,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dana  la  mAthode  normale  de  filmaga 
aont  indiquAa  ci-daaaoua. 


I     I   Coiourad  pagea/ 


D 


Pagea  da  couleur 

Pagea  damaged/ 
Pagea  andommagAea 


□   Pagea  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pagoa  restaur6aa  at/ou  pelliculAes 


Pagea  diacolourad,  atainad  or  foxed/ 
Pagea  dAcolorAes,  tachatAea  ou  piquAea 


The 

P08 

of  1 
fllnr 


Ori 

be( 

the 

sioi 

oth 

firs 

slot 

or  i 


I      I    Pages  detached/ 


Pages  dAtachAes 

Showthroughy 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  inAgale  de  I'lmpression 

Includes  supplementary  materif 
Comprand  du  material  supplAmantaira 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  diaponibia 


r^  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  variea/ 

I      I  Includea  supplementary  material/ 

I — I  Only  edition  available/ 


The 
sha 
TIN 
whi 

IVIai 
diff 
enti 
beg 
righ 
reqi 
met 


Pagea  wholly  or  partially  obacurad  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Lea  pagea  totalement  ou  partii>!lement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  At*  filmAea  A  nouveau  de  fapon  k 
obtenir  la  mellleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

/ 

12X 


16X 


aox 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  film6  fiit  reproduit  grfice  i  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  ^^-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6x6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprim^e  sont  filmds  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  las  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film6s  en  commen^ant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN  ". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  §tre 
filmds  d  des  taux  de  rdduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  filmd  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1  2  3 


32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

.ru 


ART-TYPE    EDITION 


THE 
OREGON  TRAIL 

By  FRANCIS  PARKMAN,  Jr. 


THE  WORLD'S 
POPULAR  CLASSICS 


BOOKS,     INC. 

PUBLISHERS 
NEW  YORK  BOSTON 


PRINTED   IN    THE    UNITED   STATES   OF   AMERICA 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I 

II 

III 

IV 

V 

VI 

VII 

VIII 

IX 

X 

XI 

XII 

XIII 

XIV 

XV 

XVI 

XVII 

XVIII 

XIX 

XX 

XXI 

XXII 

XXIII 

XXIV 

XXV 

XXVI 

XXVII 


PAGE 

The  Frontier l 

Breaking  the  Ice 7 

Fort  Leavenworth 15 

"Jumping  Off" 18 

"The  Big  Blue" 27 

The  Platte  and  the  Desert  ...  42 

The  Buffalo 53 

Taking  French  Leave       ....  66 

Scenes  at  Fort  Laramie  ....  79 

The  War  Parties 91 

Scenes  at  the  Camp 109 

III  Luck 125 

Hunting  Indians 131 

The  Ogallalla  Village    .      .      .      .  151 

The  Hunting  Camp 168 

The  Trappers 187 

The  Black  Hills 195 

A  Mountain  Hunt 198 

Passage  of  the  Mountains    .      .     .  208 

The  Lonely  Journey 222 

The  Pueblo  and  Bent's  Fort      .      .  239 

Tete  Rouge,  the  Volunteer  .      .      .  245 

Indian  Alarms 248 

The  Chase 258 

The  Buffalo  Camp 266 

Down  the  Arkansas 278 

The  Settlements 293 


.AST 

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lort  v( 
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The 
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ind  ai 


ClIAPTKR    I 

THE  I' HUNT  I KR 

,AST  SPRINC,   iHc\C),  was  a  busy  season  iti  tlio  city  of  St.  [.oiiis.  ^^ 

[ot  only  were  cniij^raiits  from  every  part  of  the  country  prepar- 
\^  for  the  jotntiey  to  ( )re^on  and  (ahfornia,  hut  an  inuisual  inim- 

T  of  traders  were  inal<in^(  ready  their  wa^'ons  and  outfits  for 
janta  I'e.  Many  of  the  etni^'rants,  esjx'cially  of  those  hound  for 
'alifornia,  were  persons  of  wealth  and  standing.  The  hotels  were 
[rowded,  and  the  Ki""^'"itJi''  'i'i<i  saddlers  were  kept  constantly  at 

ork  in  providing'  arms  and  e((uipments  for  the  different  parties 
if  travelers.  Almost  every  day  steamhoats  were  leavinj^  the  levee 
\\u\  p.'issiuf^  up  the  Missouri,  crowded  with  passengers  on  their  way 
the  frontier. 

In  one  of  these,  the  Radnor,  since  sna^^ed  and  lost,  my  friend 
ind  relative,  (Juincy  A.  Shaw,  and  myself,  left  St.  Louis  on  the 
^8th  of  April,  on  a  tour  of  curiosity  and  amusement  to  the  Rocky 

[ountains.  The  boat  was  loaded  until  the  water  broke  alternately 
i>ver  her  ^^uards.  Mcr  upper  deck  was  covered  with  large  weapons 
>f  a  i)eculiar  form,  for  the  Santa  Fe  trade,  and  her  hold  was 
bammed  with  goods  for  the  same  destination.  There  were  also  the 
Equipments  and  provisions  of  a  party  of  Oregon  emigrants,  a  band 
>f  mules  and  horses,  piles  of  saddles  and  harness,  and  a  multitude 
>f  nondescript  articles,  indispensable  on  the  ])rairies.  Almost  hid- 
ien  in  this  medley  one  might  have  seen  a  small  French  cart,  of  the 
^ort  very  appropriately  called  a  "mule-killer"  beyond  the  frontiers, 
md  not  far  distant  a  tent,  together  with  a  miscellaneous  assortment 
if  boxes  and  barrels.  The  whole  equipage  was  far  from  prepossess- 
ing in  its  appearance ;  yet,  such  as  it  was,  it  was  destined  to  a  long 
md  arduous  journey,  on  which  the  persevering  reader  will  accom- 
)any  it. 

The  passengers  on  board  the  Radnor  corresponded  with  her 
freight.  In  her  cabin  were  Santa  Fe  traders,  gamblers,  speculators, 
md  adventurers  of  various  descriptions,  and  her  steerage  was 

1 


2  Till-:  Orf^(;on  Trail 

crowded  with  Orcf^oii  cmijijrants,  "mountain  men,"  nc^Tocs,  and  a 
party  of  Kansas  Indians,  who  had  been  on  a  visit  to  St.  Louis. 

Thus  laden,  the  boat  strujj^^led  upward  for  seven  or  eifjht  days 
against  the  rapid  current  of  the  Missouri,  j^^ratin^  u])on  sna^s,  and 
hanging'  for  two  or  tliree  hours  at  a  time  upon  sand-bars.  We  en- 
tered the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  in  a  driz/hnj^  rain,  but  the  weather 
soon  became  clear,  and  showed  distinctly  the  broad  and  turbid 
river,  with  its  eddies,  its  sand-bars,  its  ra^^ed  islands,  and  forest- 
covered  shores.  The  Missouri  is  constantly  chan^dnjjf  its  course; 
wearing  away  its  banks  on  one  side,  while  it  forms  new  ones  on 
the  other.  Its  channel  is  shifting  continually.  Islands  are  formed, 
and  then  washed  away  ;  and  while  the  old  forests  on  one  side  are 
undermined  and  swept  ofif,  a  young  growth  springs  up  from  the 
new  soil  ui)on  the  other.  With  all  these  changes,  the  water  is  so 
charged  with  mud  and  sand  that  it  is  perfectly  opaque,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  deposits  a  sediment  an  inch  thick  in  the  bottom  of  a  tum- 
bler. The  river  was  now  high ;  but  when  we  descended  in  the 
autumn  it  was  fallen  very  low,  and  all  the  secrets  of  its  treacherous 
shallows  were  exposed  to  view.  It  was  frightful  to  see  the  dead  and 
broken  trees,  thick-set  as  a  military  abatis,  firmly  imbedded  in  the 
sand,  and  all  pointing  down  stream,  ready  to  impale  any  unhappy 
steamboat  that  at  high  water  should  pass  over  that  dangerous 
ground. 

In  five  or  six  days  we  began  to  see  signs  of  the  great  western 
movement  that  was  then  taking  place.  Parties  of  emigrants,  with 
their  tents  and  wagons,  would  be  encamped  on  open  spots  near  the 
bank,  on  their  way  to  the  common  rendezvous  at  Independence.  On 
a  rainy  day,  near  sunset,  we  reached  the  landing  of  this  place, 
which  is  situated  some  miles  from  the  river,  on  the  extreme  frontier 
of  Missouri.  The  scene  was  characteristic,  for  here  were  repre- 
sented at  one  view  the  most  remarkable  features  of  this  wild  and 
enterprising  region.  On  the  muddy  shore  stood  some  thirty  or 
forty  dark  slavish-looking  Spaniards,  gazing  stupidly  out  from  be- 
neath their  broad  hats.  They  were  attached  to  one  of  the  Santa  Fe 
companies,  whose  wagons  were  crowded  together  on  the  banks 
above.  In  the  midst  of  these,  crouching  over  a  smoldering  fire,  was 
a  *grwi^af  Indians,  belonging  to  a  remote  Mexican  tribe.  One  or 
tW€MEcaach  hunters  from  the  mountains  with  their  long  hair  and 
buckskin  dresses,  were  looking  at  the  boat;  and  seated  on  a  log 


The  Oregon  Trail  3 

close  at  hand  were  three  men,  with  rifles  lyinp  across  their  knees. 
The  foremost  of  these,  a  tall,  strong  figure,  with  a  clear  hlue  eye 
ntid  an  open,  intelligent  face,  might  very  well  rei)resent  that  race 
of  resiless  and  intrepid  pioneers  whose  axes  and  rifles  have  opened 
a  path  from  the  Allcghenies  to  the  western  prairies.  He  was  on  his 
way  to  Oregon,  prohahly  a  more  congenial  field  to  him  than  any 
that  now  remained  on  this  side  the  great  plains. 

I'larly  on  the  next  morning  we  reached  Kansas,  about^  five  hun-  \j , 
dred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri.  Here  we  landed  and 
leaving  our  equipments  in  charge  of  my  good  friend  Colonel  Chick, 
whose  log-house  was  the  substitute  for  a  tavern,  we  set  out  in  a 
wagon  for  Westport,  where  we  hoped  to  procure  mules  and  horses 
for  the  journey. 

It  was  a  remarkably  fresh  and  beautiful  May  morning.  The  rich 
and  luxuriant  woods  through  which  the  miserable  road  conducted 
us  were  lighted  by  the  bright  sunshine  and  enlivened  by  a  multitude 
of  birds.  We  overtook  on  the  way  our  late  fellow-travelers,  the 
Kansas  Indians,  who,  adorned  with  all  their  finery,  were  proceed- 
ing homeward  at  a  round  pace ;  and  whatever  they  might  have 
seemed  on  board  the  boat,  they  made  a  very  striking  and  pic- 
turesque feature  in  the  forest  landscape. 

Westport  was  full  of  Indians,  whose  little  shaggy  ponies  were 
tied  by  dozens  along  the  houses  and  fences.  Sacs  and  Foxes,  with 
shaved  heads  and  painted  faces,  Shawanoes  and  Delawares,  flutter- 
ing in  calico  frocks,  and  turbans,  Wyandottes  dressed  like  white 
men,  and  a  few  wretched  Kansas  wrapped  in  old  blankets,  were 
strolling  about  the  streets,  or  lounging  in  and  out  of  the  shops  and 
houses. 

As  I  stood  at  the  door  of  the  tavern,  I  saw  a  remarkable  looking 
person  corning  up  the  street.  He  had  a  ruddy  face,  garnished  with 
the  stumps  of  a  bristly  red  beard  and  mustache ;  on  one  side  of  his 
head  was  a  round  cap  with  a  knob  at  the  top,  such  as  Scottish 
laborers  sometimes  wear ;  his  coat  was  of  a  nondescript  form,  and 
made  of  a  gray  Scotch  plaid,  with  the  fringes  hanging  all  about  it ; 
he  wore  pantaloons  of  coarse  homespun,  and  hob-nailed  shoes ;  and 
to  complete  his  equipment,  a  little  black  pipe  was  stuck  in  one  cor- 
ner of  his  mouth.  In  this  curious  attire,  I  reco^nirp*^!  ^ftpt^^"  ^ 
of  the  British  army,  who,  with  his  brother,  and  Mr.  R.^  an  English 
gentleman,  was  bound  on  a  hunting  expedition  across  the  continent. 


i  ! 


4  The  Oregon  Trail 

I  had  seen  the  captain  and  his  companions  at  St.  Louis.  They  had 
now  been  for  some  time  at  Westport,  making  preparations  for  their 
departure,  and  waiting  for  a  re-enforcement,  since  they  were  too 
few  in  number  to  attempt  it  alone.  They  might,  it  is  true,  have 
joined  some  of  the  parties  of  emigrants  who  were  on  the  point  of 
setting  out  for  Oregon  and  CaHfornia;  but  they  professed  great 
disinclination  to  have  any  connection  with  the  "Kentucky  fellows." 

The  captain  now  urged  it  upon  us,  that  we  should  join  forces  and 
proceed  to  the  mountains  in  company,  i^eeimg  no  greater  partiality 
for  the  society  of  the  emigrants  than  they  did,  we  thought  the  ar- 
rangement an  advantageous  one,  and  consented  to  it.  Our  future 
fellow-travelers  had  installed  themselves  in  a  little  log-house,  where 
we  found  them  all  surrounded  by  saddles,  harness,  guns,  pistols, 
te^.escopes,  knives,  and  in  short  their  complete  appointments  for  the 
prairie.  R.,  who  professed  a  taste  for  natural  history,  sat  at  a  table 
stuffing  a  woodpecker;  the  brother  of  the  captain,  who  was  an 
Irishman,  was  splicing  a  trail-rope  on  the  floor,  as  he  had  been  an 
amateur  sailor.  The  captain  pointed  out,  with  much  coiiiplacency, 
the  different  articles  of  their  outfit.  "You  see,"  said  he,  "that  we 
are  all  old  travelers.  I  am  convinced  that  no  party  ever  went  upon 
the  prairie  better  provided."  The  hunter  whom  they  had  employed, 
a  surly  looking  Canadian,  nam.ed  Sorel,  and  their  muleteer,  an 
American  from  St.  Louis,  were  lounging  about  the  building.  In  a 
little  log  stable  close  at  hand  were  their  horses  and  mules,  selected 
by  the  captain,  who  was  an  excellent  judge. 

The  alliance  entered  into,  we  left  them  to  complete  their  arrange- 
ments, while  we  pushed  our  own  to  all  convenient  speed.  The 
emigrants  for  whom  our  friends  professed  such  contempt  were 
encamped  on  the  prairie  about  eight  or  ten  miles  distant,  to  the 
number  of  a  thousand  or  more,  and  new  parties  were  constantly 
passing  out  from  Independence  to  join  them.  They  were  in  great 
confusion,  holding  meetings,  passing  resolutions,  and  drawing  up 
regulations,  but  unable  to  unite  in  the  choice  of  leaders  to  conduct 
them  across  the  prairie.  Being  at  leisure  one  day,  I  rode  over  to  In- 
dependence. The  town  was  crowded.  A  multitude  of  shops  had 
sprung  up  to  furnish  the  emigrants  and  Santa  Fe  traders  with 
necessaries  for  their  journey;  and  there  was  an  incessant  hammer- 
ing and  banging  from  a  dozen  blacksmith's  sheds,  where  ihe  heavy 
wagons  were  being  repaired,  and  the  horses  and  oxen  shod.  The 


'iMi 


The  Oregon  Trail  5 

streets  were  thronged  with  men,  horses,  and  mules.  While  I  was 
in  the  town,  a  train  of  emigrant  wagons  from  Illinois  passed 
through,  to  join  the  camp  on  the  prairie,  and  stopped  in  the  prin- 
cipal street.  A  multitude  of  healthy  children's  faces  were  peeping 
out  from  under  the  covers  of  the  wagons.  Here  and  there  a  buxom 
damsel  was  seated  on  horsebcick,  holding  over  her  sunburnt  face  an 
old  umbrella  or  a  parasol,  once  gaudy  enough  but  now  miserably 
faded.  The  men,  very  sober-looking  countrymen,  stood  about  their 
oxen ;  and  as  I  passed  I  noticed  three  old  fellows,  who,  with  their 
long  whips  in  their  hands,  were  zealously  discussing  the  doctrine  of 
regeneration.  The  emigrants,  however,  are  not  all  of  this  stamp. 
Among  them  are  some  of  the  vilest  outcasts  in  the  country.  I  have 
often  perplexed  myself  to  divine  the  various  motives  that  give  im- 
pulse to  this  strange  migration ;  but  whatever  they  may  be,  whether 
an  insane  hope  of  a  better  condition  in  life,  or  a  desire  of  shaking  off 
restraints  of  law  and  society,  or  mere  restlessness,  certain  it  is  that 
multitudes  bitterly  repent  the  journey,  and  after  they  have  reached 
the  land  of  promise  are  happy  enough  to  escape  from  it. 

In  the  course  of  seven  or  eight  days  we  had  brought  our  prepara- 
tions near  to  a  close.  Meanwhile  our  friends  had  completed  theirs, 
and  becoming  tired  of  Westport,  they  told  us  that  they  would  set 
out  in  advance  and  wait  at  the  crossing  of  the  Kansas  till  v  t  should 
come  up.  Accordingly  R.  and  the  muleteers  went  forward  with  the 
wagon  and  tent,  while  the  captain  and  his  brother,  together  with 
Sorel,  and  a  trapper  named  Boisverd,  who  had  joined  them,  fol- 
lowed with  the  band  of  horses.  The  commencement  of  the  journey 
was  ominous,  for  the  captain  was  scarcely  a  mile  from  Westport, 
riding  along  in  sta^e  at  the  head  of  his  party,  leading  his  intended 
buffalo  horse  by  a  rope,  when  a  tremendous  thunderstorm  came  on, 
and  drenched  them  all  to  the  skin.  They  hurried  on  to  reach  the 
place,  about  seven  miles  off,  where  R.  was  to  have  had  the  camp 
in  readiness  to  receive  them.  But  this  prudent  person,  when  he  saw 
the  storm  approaching,  had  selected  a  sheltered  glade  in  the  woods, 
where  he  pitched  his  tent,  and  was  sipping  a  comfortable  cup  of 
coffee,  while  the  captain  galloped  for  miles  beyond  through  the  rain 
to  look  for  him.  At  length  the  storm  cleared  away,  and  the  sharp- 
eyed  trapper  succeeded  in  discovering  his  tent :  R.  had  by  this  time 
finished  his  coffee,  and  was  seated  on  a  buffalo  robe  smoking  his 
pipe.  The  captain  was  one  of  the  most  easy-tempered  men  in  ex- 


A 


The  Oregon  Trail 


!'  I 


hi'  ■* 
til 


Hi! 
11 


I'lli 


I 


istence,  so  he  bore  his  ill-luck  with  great  composure,  shared  the 
dregs  of  the  coffee  with  his  brother,  and  laid  down  to  sleep  in  his 
wet  clothes. 

We  ourselves  had  our  share  of  the  deluge.  We  were  leading  a 
pair  of  mules  to  Kansas  when  the  storm  broke.  Such  sharp  and  in- 
cessant flashes  of  lightning,  such  stunning  and  continuous  thunder, 
I  have  never  known  before.  The  woods  were  completely  obscured 
by  the  diagonal  sheets  of  rain  that  fell  with  a  heavy  roar,  and  rose  in 
spray  from  the  ground;  and  the  streams  rose  so  rapidly  that  we 
could  hardly  ford  them.  At  length,  looming  through  the  rain,  we 
saw  the  log-house  of  Colonel  Chick,  who  received  us  with  his  usual 
bland  hospitality;  while  his  wife,  who,  though  a  little  soured  and 
stiffened  by  too  frequent  attendance  on  camp-meetings,  was  not  be- 
hind him  in  hospitable  feeling,  supplied  us  with  the  means  of  repair- 
ing our  drenched  and  bedraggled  condition.  The  storm,  clearing 
away  at  about  sunset,  opened  a  noble  prospect  from  the  porch  of 
the  colonel's  house,  which  stands  upon  a  high  hill.  The  sun  streamed 
from  the  breaking  clouds  upon  the  swift  and  angry  Missouri,  and 
on  the  immense  expanse  of  luxuriant  forest  that  stretched  from  its 
banks  back  to  the  distant  bluffs. 

Returning  on  the  next  day  to  Westport,  we  received  a  message 
from  the  captain,  who  had  ridden  back  to  deliver  it  in  person,  but 
finding  that  we  were  in  Kansas,  had  intrusted  it  with  an  acquaint- 
ance of  his  named  Vogel,  who  kept  a  small  grocery  and  liquor  shop. 
Whisky  by  the  way  circulates  more  freely  in  Westport  than  is 
altogether  safe  in  a  place  where  every  man  carries  a  loaded  pistol 
in  his  pocket.  As  we  passed  this  establishment,  we  saw  Vogel's 
broad  German  face  and  knavish  looking  eyes  thrust  from  his  door. 
He  said  he  had  something  to  tell  us,  and  invited  us  to  take  a  dram. 
Neither  his  liquor  nor  his  message  was  very  palatable.  The  cap- 
tain had  returned  to  give  us  notice  that  R.,  who  assumed  the  direc- 
tion of  his  party,  had  determined  upon  another  route  from  that 
agreed  upon  between  us ;  and  instead  of  taking  the  course  of  the 
traders,  to  pass  northward  by  Fort  Leavenworth,  and  follow  the 
path  marked  out  by  the  dragoons  in  their  expedition  of  last  sum- 
mer. To  adopt  such  a  plan  without  consulting  us,  we  looked  upon 
as  a  very  high-handed  proceeding;  but  suppressing  our  dissatis- 
faction as  well  as  we  could,  we  made  up  our  minds  to  join  them 
at  Fort  Leavenworth,  wh^  e  they  were  to  wait  for  us. 


The  Oregon  Trail  7 

Accordingly,  our  preparation  being  now  complete,  we  attempted 
lone  fine  morning  to  commence  our  journey.  The  first  step  was  an 
unfortunate  one.  No  sooner  were  our  animals  put  in  harness,  than 
the  shaft  mule  reared  and  plunged,  burst  ropes  and  straps,  and 
nearly  flung  the  cart  into  the  Missouri.  Finding  her  wholly  uncon- 
trollable, we  exchanged  her  for  another,  with  which  we  were  fur- 
nished by  our  friend  Mr.  Boone  of  Westport,  a  grandson  of  Daniel 
Boone,  the  pioneer.  This  foretaste  of  prairie  experience  was  very 
soon  followed  by  another.  Westport  was  scarcely  out  of  sight,  when 
we  encountered  a  deep  muddy  gully,  of  a  species  that  afterward 
became  but  too  familiar  to  us ;  and  here  for  the  space  of  an  hour  or 
more  the  car  stuck  fast. 


Chapter  II 
BREAKING  THE  ICE 

Both  Shaw  and  myself  were  tolerably  inured  to  the  vicissitudes 
of  traveling.  We  had  experienced  them  under  vanous  f6rms7  and 

la  birch  canoe  was  as  familiar  to  us  as  a  steamboat.  The  restless- 
ness, the  love  of  wilds  and  hatred  of  cities,  natural  perhaps  in 

[early  years  to  every  unperverted  son  of  Adam,  was  not  our  only 
motive  for  undertaking  the  present  journey.  My  companion  hoped 

[to  shake  off  the  effects  of  a  disorder  that  had  impaired  a  constitu- 

Ition  originally  hardy  and  robust ;  and  I  was  anxious  to  pursue  some 

[inquiries  relative  to  the  character  and  usages  of  the  remote  Indian 

[nations,  being  already  familiar  with  many  of  the  border  tribes. 
Emerging  from  the  mud-hole  where  we  last  took  leave  of  the 

[reader,  we  pursued  our  way  for  some  time  along  the  narrow  track, 
in  the  checkered  sunshine  and  shadow  of  the  woods,  till  at  length, 
issuing  forth  into  the  broad  light,  we  left  behind  us  the  farthest 
outskirts  of  that  great  forest,  that  once  spread  unbroken  from  the 

{western  plains  to  the  shore  of  the  Atlantic.  Looking  over  an  in- 
tervening belt  of  shrubbery,  we  saw  the  green,  oceanlike  expanse 

[of  prairie,  stretching  swell  over  swell  to  the  horizon. 

It  was  a  mild,  calm  spring  day ;  a  day  when  one  is  more  disposed 

[to  musing  and  reverie  than  to  action,  and  the  softest  part  of  his 


\ 


8 


The  Oregon  Trail 


m 


!l 


^i!n 


nature  is  apt  to  gain  the  ascendency.  I  rode  in  advance  of  the  party, 
as  we  passed  through  the  shrubbery,  and  as  a  nook  of  green  grass 
offered  a  strong  temptation,  I  dismounted  and  lay  down  there.  All 
the  trees  and  saplings  were  in  flower,  or  budding  into  fresh  leaf; 
the  red  clusters  of  the  maple-blossoms  and  the  rich  flowers  of  the 
Indian  apple  where  there  in  profusion ;  and  I  was  half  inclined  to 
regret  leaving  behind  the  land  of  gardens  for  the  rude  ana  stern 
scenes  of  the  prairie  and  the  mountains. 

Meanwhile  the  party  came  in  sight  from  out  of  the  bushes.  Fore- 
most rode  Henry  Chatillon,  our  guide  and  hunter,  a  fine  athletic 
figure,  mounted  on  a  hardy  gray  Wyandotte  pony.  He  wore  a  white 
blanket-coat,  a  broad  hat  of  felt,  moccasins,  and  pantaloons  of  deer- 
skin, ornamented  along  the  seams  with  rows  of  long  fringes.  His 
knife  was  stuck  in  his  belt ;  his  bullet-pouch  and  powder-horn  hung 
at  his  side,  and  his  rifle  lay  before  him,  resting  against  the  high 
pommel  of  his  saddle,  which,  like  all  his  equipments,  had  seen  hard 
service,  and  was  much  the  worse  for  wear.  Shaw  followed  close, 
mounted  on  a  little  sorrel  horse,  and  leading  a  larger  animal  by  a 
rope.  His  outfit,  which  resembled  mine,  had  been  provided  with  a 
view  to  use  rather  than  ornament.  It  consisted  of  a  plain,  black 
Spanish  saddle,  with  holsters  of  heavy  pistols,  a  blanket  rolled  up 
behind  it,  and  the  trail-rope  attached  to  his  horse's  neck  hanging 
coiled  in  front.  He  carried  a  double-barreled  smooth-bore,  while  I 
boasted  a  rifle  of  some  fifteen  pounds  weight.  At  that  time  our  at- 
tire, though  far  from  elegant,  bore  some  marks  of  civilization,  and 
offered  a  very  favorable  contrast  to  the  inimitable  shabbiness  of 
our  appearance  on  the  return  journey.  A  red  flannel  shht,  belted 
around  the  waist  like  a  frock,  then  constituted  our  upper  garment ; 
moccasins  had  supplanted  our  failing  boots;  and  the  remaining 
essential  portion  of  our  attire  consisted  of  an  extraordinary  article, 
manufactured  by  a  squaw  out  of  smoked  buckskin.  Our  muleteer, 
Delorier,  brought  up  the  rear  with  his  cart,  waddling  ankle-deep  in 
the  mud,  alternately  puffing  at  his  pipe,  and  ejaculating  in  his 
prairie  patois :  "Sacre  enfant  de  garce!"  as  one  of  the  inules  would 
seem  to  recoil  before  some  abyss  of  unusual  profundity.  The  cart 
was  of  the  kind  that  one  may  see  by  scores  around  the  market- 
place in  Montreal,  and  had  a  white  covering  to  protect  the  articles 
within.  These  were  our  provisions  and  a  tent,  with  ammunition, 
blankets,  and  presents  for  the  Indians. 


"■  ■■  1 ' 


The  Oregon  Trail  9 

We  were  in  all  four  men  with  eight  animals ;  for  besides  the 
spare  horses  led  by  Shaw  and  myself,  an  additional  mule  was 
Iriven  along  with  us  as  a  reserve  in  case  of  accident. 

After  this  summing  up  of  our  forces,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
fiance  at  the  characters  of  the  two  men  who  accompanied  us. 

Delorier  was  a  Canadian,  with  all  the  characteristics  of  the  true 
fean  Baptiste.  Neither  fatigue,  exposure,  nor  hard  labor  could  ever 
Impair  his  cheerfulness  and  gayety,  or  his  obsequious^pojiteness  to     V 
ms  bourgeois;  and  when  night  came  he  wouId""sirHown  by  the  fire,      ' 
smoke  his  pipe,  and  tell  stories  with  the  utmost  contentment.  In 
bet,  the  prairie  was  his  congenial  element.  Henry  Chatillon^waa.    K 
)f  a  different  stamp.  When  we  were  at  St.  Eoiifs,  seWfaT  gentle- 

len  of  the  Fur  Company  had  kindly  offered  to  procure  for  us  a 
mnter  and  guide  suited  for  our  purposes,  and  on  coming  one 
ifternoon  to  the  office,  we  found  there  a  tall  and  exceedingly  well- 
Iressed  man  with  a  face  so  open  and  frank  that  it  attracted  our 
lotice  at  once.  We  were  surprised  at  being  told  that  it  was  he  who 

nshed  to  guide  us  to  the  mountains.  He  was  born  in  a  little  French 
town  near  St.  Louis,  and  from  the  age  of  fifteen  years  had  been 
constantly  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  employed 
for  the  most  part  by  the  Company  to  supply  their  forts  with  buffalo 

leat.  As  a  hunter  he  had  but  one  rival  in  the  whole  region,  a  man 
lamed  Cimoneau,  with  whom,  to  the  honor  of  both  of  them,  he 

ras  on  terms  of  the  closest  friendship.  He  had  arrived  at  St.  Louis 
[he  day  before,  from  the  mountains,  where  he  had  remained  for 
four  years ;  and  he  now  only  asked  to  go  and  spend  a  day  with  his 

lother  before  setting  out  on  another  expedition.  His  age  was 

)out  thirty ;  he  was  six  feet  high,  and  very  powerfully  and  grace- 
fully molded.  The  prairies  had  been  his  school;  he  could  neither 
fead  nor  write,  but  he  had  a  natural  refinement  and  delicacy  of      / 

lind  such  as  is  very  rarely  found,  even  in  women.  His  manly  face     / 

ras  a  pertect  mirror  of  uprightness,  simplicity,  and  kindness  of  ' 
leart ;  he  had,  moreover,  a  keen  perception  of  character  and  a  tact 
[hat  would  preserve  him  from  flagrant  error  in  any  society.  Henry 
lad  not  the  restless  energy  of  an  Anglo-American.  He  was  con- 
lent  to  take  things  as  he  found  them  ;  and  his  chief  fault  arose  from 
excess  of  easy  generosity,  impelling  him  to  give  away  too  pro- 
fusely ever  to  thrive  in  the  world.  Yet  it  was  commonly  remarked 
)f  him.  that  whatever  he  might  choose  to  do  with  what  belonged 


;  > 


10 


The  Oregon  Trail 


:1! 


to  himself,  the  property  of  others  was  always  safe  in  his  hands. 
His  bravery  was  as  much  celebrated  in  the  mountains  as  his  skill 
in  hunting ;  hut  it  is  characteristic  of  him  that  in  a  country  where 
the  rifle  is  the  chief  arbiter  between  man  and  man,  Henry  was  very 
seldom  involved  in  quarrels.  Once  or  twice,  indeed,  his  quiet  good- 
nature had  been  mistaken  and  presumed  upon,  but  the  consequences 
of  the  error  were  so  formidable  that  no  one  was  ever  known  to 
repeat  it.  No  better  evidence  of  the  intrepidity  of  his  temper  could 
be  wished  than  the  common  report  that  he  had  killed  more  than 
thirty  grizzly  bears.  He  was  a  proof  of  what  unaided  nature  will 
sometimes  do.  I  have  never,  in  the  city  or  in  the  wilderness,  met 
a  better  man  than  my  noble  and  true-hearted  friend,  Henry 
Chatillon. 

We  were  soon  free  of  the  woods  and  bushes,  and  fairly  upon 
the  broad  prairie.  Now  and  then  a  Shawanoe  passed  us,  riding  his 
little  shaggy  pony  at  a  *'lope" ;  his  calico  shirt,  his  gaudy  sash,  and 
the  gay  handkerchief  bound  around  his  snaky  hair  fluttering  in  the 
wind.  At  noon  we  stopped  to  rest  not  far  from  a  little  creek  replete 
with  frogs  and  young  turtles.  There  had  been  an  Indian  encamp- 
ment at  the  place,  and  the  framework  of  their  lodges  still  remained, 
enabling  us  very  easily  to  gain  a  shelter  from  the  sun,  by  merely 
spreading  one  or  two  blankets  over  them.  Thus  shaded,  we  sat  upon 
our  saddles,  and  Shaw  for  the  first  time  lighted  his  favorite  Indian 
pipe ,  while  Delorier  was  squatted  over  a  hot  bed  of  coals,  shading 
his  eyes  with  one  hand,  and  holding  a  little  stick  in  the  other,  with  | 
which  he  regulated  the  hissing  contents  of  the  frying-pan.  The 
horses  were  turned  to  feed  among  the  scattered  bushes  of  a  low 
oozy  meadow.  A  drowzy  springlike  sultriness  pervaded  the  air,  and 
the  voices  of  ten  thousand  young  frogs  and  insects,  just  awakened 
into  life,  rose  in  varied  chorus  from  the  creek  and  the  meadows. 

Scarcely  were  we  seated  when  a  visitor  approached.  This  was 
an  old  Kansas  Indian ;  a  man  of  distinction,  if  one  might  judge 
from  his  dress.  His  head  was  shaved  and  painted  red,  and  from  the 
tuft  of  hair  remaining  on  the  crown  dangled  several  eagle's 
feathers,  and  the  tails  of  two  or  three  rattlesnakes.  His  cheeks,  too, 
were  daubed  with  vermilion;  his  ears  were  adorned  with  green 
glass  pendants ;  a  collar  of  grizzly  bears'  claws  surrounded  his  neck, 
and  several  large  necklaces  of  wampum  hung  on  his  breast.  Having 
Siiaken  us  by  the  hand  with  a  cordial  grunt  of  salutation,  the  old 


;'*3*' 


The  Oregon  Trail 


11 


man,  dropping  his  red  blanket  from  bis  sbouldcrs,  sat  down  cross- 
IcLj^cd  on  the  ground.  In  the  al)sence  of  licjuor  wc  olTcred  him  a 
cup  of  sweetened  water,  at  which  he  ejaculated  **(jf)()d !"  and  was 
beginning  to  tell  us  how  great  a  man  he  was,  and  how  many  Paw- 
nees be  bad  killed,  when  suddenly  a  motley  concourse  ai)peared 
wading  across  the  creek  toward  us.  They  filed  past  in  rapid  suc- 
cession, men,  women,  and  children ;  some  were  on  horseback,  some 
on  foot,  but  all  were  alike  squalid  and  wretched,  ( )ld  scjuaws, 
mounted  astride  of  shaggy,  meager  little  ponies,  with  i)erhaps  one 
or  two  snake-eyed  children  seated  behind  them,  clinging  to  their  tat- 
tered blankets ;  tall  lank  young  men  on  foot,  with  bows  and  arrows 
in  their  hands ;  and  girls  whose  native  ugliness  not  all  the  charms 
of  glass  beads  and  scarlet  cloth  could  disguise,  made  up  the  proces- 
sion ;  although  here  and  there  was  a  man  who,  like  our  visitor, 
seemed  to  hold  some  rank  in  this  respectable  community.  They  were 
the  dregs  of  the  Kansas  nation,  who,  while  their  betters  were  gone 
to  hunt  buffalo,  had  left  the  village  on  a  begging  expedition  to 
Westport. 

When  this  ragamuffin  horde  had  passed,  we  caught  our  horses, 
saddled,  harnessed,  and  resumed  our  journey.  Fording  the  creek, 
the  low  roofs  of  a  number  of  rude  buildings  appeared,  rising  from 
a  cluster  of  groves  and  woods  on  the  left ;  and  riding  up  through  a 
long  lane,  amid  a  profusion  of  wild  roses  and  early  spring  flowers, 
we  found  the  log-church  and  school-houses  belonging  to  the  Metho- 
dist Shawanoe  Mission.  The  Indians  were  on  the  point  of  gathering 
to  a  religious  meeting.  Some  scores  of  them,  tall  men  in  half- 
civilized  dress,  were  seated  on  wooden  benches  under  the  trees ; 
while  their  horses  were  tied  to  the  sheds  and  fences.  Their  chief. 
Parks,  a  remarkably  large  and  athletic  man,  was  just  arrived  from 
Westport,  where  he  owns  a  trading  establishment.  Beside  this,  he 
has  a  fine  farm  and  a  considerable  number  of  slaves.  Indeed  the 
Shawanoes  have  made  greater  progress  in  agriculture  than  any 
other  tribe  on  the  Missouri  frontier ;  and  both  in  appearance  and 
in  character  form  a  marked  contrast  to  our  late  acquaintance,  the 
Kansas. 

A  few  hours'  ride  brought  us  to  the  banks  of  the  river  Kansas. 
Traversing  the  woods  that  lined  it,  and  plowing  through  the  deep 
sand,  we  encamped  not  far  from  the  bank,  at  the  Lower  Delaware 
crossing.  Our  tent  was  erected  for  the  first  time  on  a  meadow 


li  ;i 


12 


The  Oregon  Trail 


;  I 


hi: 


.1, 


/ 


ii'Iii 


ii'ii 


I  I 


(ii 


ill 


close  to  the  woods,  and  the  camp  preparations  being  complete  we 
began  to  think  of  supper.  An  old  Delaware  woman,  of  some  three 
hundred  pounds'  weight,  sat  in  the  porch  of  a  little  log-house  close 
to  the  water,  and  a  very  pretty  half-breed  girl  was  engaged,  under 
her  superintendence,  in  feeding  a  large  flock  of  turkeys  that  were 
fluttering  and  gobbling  about  the  door.  But  no  ofifers  of  money,  or 
even  of  tobacco,  could  induce  her  to  part  with  one  of  her  favorites ; 
so  I  took  my  rifle,  to  see  if  the  woods  or  the  river  could  furnish  us 
anything.  A  multitude  of  quails  were  plaintively  whistling  in  the 
woods  and  meadows ;  but  nothing  appropriate  to  the  rifle  was  to  be 
seen,  except  three  buzzards,  seated  on  the  spectral  limbs  of  an  old 
dead  sycamore,  that  thrust  itself  out  over  the  river  from  the  dense 
sunny  wall  of  fresh  foliage.  Their  ugly  heads  were  drawn  down 
between  their  shoulders,  and  they  seemed  to  luxuriate  in  the  soft 
sunshine  that  was  pouring  from  the  west.  As  they  offered  no  epicu- 
rean temptations,  I  refrained  from  disturbing  their  enjoymenTT^ut 
contented  myself  with  admiring  the  calm  beauty  of  the  sunset,  for 
the  river,  eddying  swiftly  in  deep  purple  shadows  between  the  im- 
pending woods,  formed  a  wild  but  tranquillizing  scene. 

When  I  returned  to  the  camp  I  found  Shaw  and  an  old  Indian 
seated  on  the  ground  in  close  conference,  passing  the  pipe  between 
them.  The  old  man  was  explaining  that  he  loved  the  whites,  and 
had  an  especial  partiality  for  tobacco.  Delorier  was  arranging 
upon  the  ground  our  service  of  tin  cups  and  plates ;  and  as  other 
viands  were  not  to  be  had,  he  set  before  us  a  repast  of  biscuit  and 
bacon,  and  a  large  pot  of  coffee.  Unsheathing  our  knives,  we  at- 
tacked it,  disposed  of  the  greater  part,  and  tossed  the  residue  to  the 
Indian.  Meanwhile  our  horses,  now  hobbled  for  the  first  time,  stood 
among  the  trees,  with  their  fore-legs  tied  together,  in  great  disgust 
and  astonishment.  They  seemed  by  no  means  to  relish  this  fore- 
taste of  what  was  before  them.  Mine,  in  particular,  had  conceived 
a  moral  aversion  to  the  prairie  life.  One  of  them,  christened  Hen- 
drick,  an  animal  whose  strength  and  hardihood  were  his  only 
merits,  and  who  yielded  to  nothing  but  the  cogent  argumcjitg  of 
the  whip,  looked  toward  us  with  an  indignant  countenance,  as 
if  he  meditated  avenging  his  wrongs  with  a  kick.  The  other, 
Pontiac,  a  good  horse,  though  of  plebeian  lineage,  stood  with  his 
head  drooping  and  his  mane  hanging  "abuut" -hi*,  eyes,  with  the 
grieved  and  sulky  air  of  a  lubberly  boy  sent  off  to  school.  Poor 


The  Oregon  Trail 


13 


Pontiac !  his  forebodings  were  but  too  just ;  for  when  I  last  heard 
from  him,  he  was  under  the  lash  of  an  Ogallalla  brave,  on  a  war 
party  against  the  Crows. 

As  it  grew  dark,  and  the  voices  of  the  whip-poor-wills  succeeded 
the  whistle  of  the  quails,  we  removed  our  saddles  to  the  tent,  to 
serve  as  pillows,  spread  our  blankets  upon  the  ground,  and  pre- 
pared to  bivouac  for  the  first  time  that  season.  Each  man  selected 
the  place  in  the  tent  which  he  was  to  occupy  for  the  journey.  To 
Delorier,  however,  was  assigned  the  cart,  into  which  he  could  creep 
in  wet  weather,  and  find  a  much  better  shelter  than  his  bourgeois 
enjoyed  in  the  tent. 

The  river  Kansas  at  this  noint  forms  the  boundary  line  between 
the  country  of  the  Shawanoes  and  that  of  the  Delawares.  We 
crossed  it  on  the  following  day,  rafting  over  our  horses  and  equi- 
page with  much  difficulty,  and  unloading  our  cart  in  order  to  make 
our  way  up  the  steep  ascent  on  the  farther  bank.  It  was  a  Sunday 
morning ;  warm,  tranquil  and  bright ;  and  a  perfect  stillness  reigned 
over  the  rough  inclosures  and  neglected  fields  of  the  Delawares,  ex- 
cept the  ceaseless  hum  and  chirruping  of  myriads  of  insects.  Now 
and  then,  an  Indian  rode  past  on  his  way  to  the  meeting-house,  or 
through  the  dilapidated  entrance  of  some  shattered  log-house  an  old 
woman  might  be  discerned,  enjoying  all  the  luxury  of  idleness. 
There  was  no  village  bell,  for  the  Delawares  have  none;  and  yet 
upon  that  forlorn  and  rude  settlement  was  the  same  spirit  of  Sab- 
bath repose  and  tranquillity  as  in  some  little  New  England  village 
among  the  mountains  of  New  Hampshire  or  the  Vermont  woods. 

Having  at  present  no  leisure  for  such  reflections,  we  pursued  our 
journey.  A  military  road  led  from  this  point  to  Fort  Leavenworth, 
and  for  many  miles  the  farms  and  cabins  of  the  Delawares  were 
scattered  at  short  intervals  on  either  hand.  The  little  rude  structures 
of  logs,  erected  usually  on  the  borders  of  a  tract  of  woods,  made  a 
picturesque  feature  in  the  landscape.  But  the  scenery,  needed  no 
foreign  aid.  Nature  had  done  enough  for  it ;  and  the  alteration  of 
rich  green  prairies  and  groves  that  stood  in  clusters  or  lined  the 
banks  of  the  numerous  little  streams,  had  all  the  softened  and  pol- 
ished beauty  of  a  region  that  has  been  for  centuries  under  the  hand 
of  man.  At  that  early  season,  too,  it  was  in  the  height  of  its  fresh- 
ness and  luxuriance.  The  woods  were  flushed  with  the  red  buds  of 
the  maple;  there  were  frequent  flowering  shrubs  unknown  in  the 


y 


14 


The  OrfxiOn  Trail 


l!    1 


I  * 


/ 


east ;  and  the  green  swells  of  the  prairies  were  thickly  studded  with 
blossoms. 

Kncaniping  near  a  spring  by  the  side  of  a  hill,  we  resumed  our 
journey  in  the  morning,  and  early  in  the  afternoon  had  arrived 
within  a  few  miles  of  Fort  Leavenworth.  The  road  crossed  a  stream 
densely  bordered  with  trees,  and  running  in  the  bottom  of  a  deep 
woody  hollow.  We  were  about  to  descend  into  it,  when  a  wild  and 
confused  procession  appeared,  passing  through  the  water  below, 
and  coming  up  the  steep  ascent  toward  us.  We  stopped  to  let  them 
pass.  They  were  Dcla wares,  just  returned  from  a  hunting  expedi- 
tion. All,  both  men  and  women,  were  mounted  on  horseback,  and 
drove  along  with  them  a  considerable  number  of  pack  mules,  laden 
with  the  furs  they  had  taken,  together  with  the  buffalo  robes,  ket- 
tles, and  other  articles  of  their  traveling  equipment,  which  as  well 
as  their  clothing  and  their  weapons,  had  a  worn  and  dingy  aspect, 
as  if  they  had  seen  hard  service  of  late.  At  the  rear  of  the  party 
was  an  old  man,  who  as  he  came  up,  stopped  his  horse  to  speak  to 
us.  He  rode  a  little  tough  shaggy  pony,  with  mane  and  tail  well 
knotted  with  burrs,  and  a  rusty  Spanish  bit  in  its  mouth,  to  which, 
by  way  of  reins,  was  attached  a  string  of  raw  hide.  His  saddle, 
robbed  probably  from  a  Mexican,  had  no  covering,  being  merely 
a  tree  of  the  Spanish  form,  with  a  piece  of  grizzly  bear's  skin  laid 
over  it,  a  pair  of  rude  wooden  stirrups  attached,  and  in  the  ab* 
sence  of  girth,  a  thong  of  hide  passing  around  the  horse*s  belly. 
The  rider's  dark  features  and  keen  snaky  eyes  were  unequivocally 
Indian.  He  wore  a  buckskin  frock,  which,  like  his  fringed  leggings, 
was  well  polished  and  blackened  by  grease  and  long  service ;  and 
an  old  handkerchif  1  was  tied  around  his  head.  Resting  on  the  sad- 
dle before  him  lay  his  rifle ;  a  weapon  in  the  use  of  which  the 
Delawares  are  skillful ;  though  from  its  weight,  the  distant  prairie 
Indians  are  too  lazy  to  carry  it. 

"Who's  your  chief  ?"  he  immediately  inquired. 

Henry  Chatillon  pointed  to  us.  The  old  Delaware  fixed  his  eyes 
intently  upon  us  for  a  moment,  and  then  sententiously  remarked : 

"No  good !  Too  young !"  With  this  flattering  comment  he  left  us, 
and  rode  after  his  people. 

This  tribe,  the  Delawares,  once  the  peaceful  allies  of  William 
Penn,  the  tributaries  of  the  conquering  Iroquois,  are  now  the  most 
adventurous  and  dreaded  warriors  upon  the  prairies.  They  make 


The  Orec.on  Trail 


15 


r  upon  remote  tribes  the  very  names  of  which  were  unknown  to 
t'ir  fathers  in  their  ancient  seats  in  Pennsylvania ;  and  they  push 
CSC  new  quarrels  with  true  IndiaflL-iancor,  sending  out  theirV^ 
tic  war  parties  as  far  as  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  into  the  Mexi- 
m  territories.  Their  neighbors  and  former  confederates,  the 
hawanoes,  who  are  tolerable  farmers,  are  in  a  prosperous  condi- 
on ;  but  the  Delawares  dwindle  every  year,  from  the  number  of 
en  lost  in  their  warlike  expeditions. 

Soon  after  leaving  this  party,  we  saw,  stretching  on  the  right, 
c  forests  that  follow  the  course  of  the  Missouri,  and  the  deep 
oody  channel  through  which  at  this  point  it  runs.  At  a  distance 

front  were  the  white  barracks  of  Fort  Leavenworth,  just  visible 
rough  the  trees  upon  an  eminence  above  a  bend  of  the  river.  A 
i(ic  green  meadow,  as  level  as  a  lake,  lay  between  us  and  the 

issouri,  and  upon  this,  close  to  a  line  of  trees  that  bordered  a 
tie  brook,  stood  the  tent  of  the  captain  and  his  companions,  with 
eir  horses  feeding  around  it,  but  they  themselves  were  invisible. 

right,  their  muleteer,  was  there,  seated  on  the  tongue  of  the 
agon,  repairing  his  harness.  Boisverd  stood  cleaning  his  rifle  at 
e  door  of  the  tent,  and  Sorel  lounged  idly  about.  On  closer  ex- 

ination,  however,  we  discovered  the  captain's  brother.  Jack,  V 
tting  in  the  tent,  at  his  old  occupation  nf^^^lfrHning  trnil  rofxin   TTr- 
welcomed  us  in  his  broad  Irish  brogue,  and  said  that  his  brother     1/ 
fas  fishing  in  the  fiver,  and  1^.  gone  to  the  garrison.  They  returned 
ifore  sunset.  Meanwhile  we  erected  our  own  tent  not  far  oflF,  and 
|fter  supper  a  council  was  held,  in  which  it  was  resolved  to  remain 
le  day  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  and  on  the  next  to  bid  a  final  adieu 

the  frontier:  or  in  the  phraseology  of  the  region,  to  "jump  off." 
)ur  deliberations  were  conducted  by  the  ruddy  light  from  a  distant 
^ell  of  the  prairie,  where  the  long  dry  grass  of  last  summer  was 
kn  fire. 


Chapter  III 
FORT  LEAVENWORTH 


^N  THE  NEXT  MORNING  wc  rodc  to  Fort  Lcavcnworth.  Colonel, 
bw  General  Kearny,  to  whom  I  had  had  the  honor  of  an  introduc- 


16 


TiiK  ()rk,(;()n  THAn. 


'    V 


tion  when  at  St.  Louis,  was  just  arrived,  and  received  us  at  liN 
headijuarters  with  the  hi>;h-hred  n)urtesy  hahitual  to  hitn.  I^irt 
I  eavetuvorth  is  in  fact  no  fort,  heinj;  withotit  <lefensive  works,  ex- 
cept two  hh>ck-lu>uses.  No  rumors  of  war  had  as  yet  (Hsttirhed  its 
tran(|uinity.  In  the  scjuare  >^rassy  area,  stnrounded  hy  harracks  and 
the  (Hiartevs  of  the  otVicers.  the  men  were  |>jissin^'  and  repassinj;,  or 
louuf^iiif;  amon^j  the  trees;  ahhon^h  not  many  weeks  afterward  it 
presented  a  (HtTen'nt  scene;  for  here  the  very  otT-sconrinj^s  of  llir 
frontier  were  congregated,  to  he  marshaled  for  the  expetHtioii 
U);ainst  Santa  I'e. 

Passing;;  thron^;h  the  j^arrison,  we  rode  toward  the  Kickap«in' 
villaj^e.  tive  or  six  miles  heyond.  The  |vith,  a  rather  duhious  and 
uncertain  one,  led  us  alonj;  the  ridj^c  of  hij;h  hlulTs  that  hordend 
the  Missouri;  and  hy  UH)kinfj  to  the  rij;ht  or  to  the  left,  we  could 
enjoy  a  stranjje  contrast  of  opiM)site  scenery.  Qii  the  left  atriilcbed 
V  /  the  prairiiVJ^ii^inj;  into  swells  and  undidations,  thickly  sprinkled 
/  '  with  groves,  or  gracefully  expanding  into  wide  grassy  t).asins  of 
miles  in  extent ;  while  its  curvatures,  swelling  against  the  horizon, 
were  v>ften  surmounted  hy  lines  of  suimy  woods ;  a  scene  to  wliicli 
the  freshness  of  the  season  and  the  iK'Culiar  mellowness  of  the 
atmosphere  gave  additional  softness  ^^elow  us,  on  the  right,  was  a 
tract  of  ragged  and  hroken  woods.  We  could  look  down  on  the 
summits  of  the  trees,  some  living  and  some  dead  ;  some  erect,  others 
leaning  at  every  angle,  and  others  still  piled  in  masses  together  by 
the  passage  of  a  hurricane.  Beyond  their  extreme  verge,  the  turbid 
waters  of  the  Missouri  were  discernible  through  the  boughs,  rolliii},' 
powerfully  along  at  the  foot  of  the  woody  declivities  of  its  farther 
.  bank. 

The  path  soon  after  led  inland;  and  as  we  crossed  an  open 
meadow  we  saw  a  cluster  of  buildings  on  a  rising  ground  before 
us,  with  a  crowd  of  people  surrounding  them.  They  were  the  store- 
house, cottage,  and  stables  of  the  Kickapoo  trader's  establishment. 
Just  at  that  moment,  as  it  chanced,  he  was  beset  with  half  the 
Indians  of  the  settlement.  They  had  tied  their  wretched,  neglected 
little  [>onies  by  dozens  along  the  fences  and  outhouses,  and  were 
either  lounging  about  the  place,  or  crowding  into  the  trading  house, 
Here  were  faces  of  various  colors ;  red,  green,  white,  and  black, 
curiously  intermingled  and  disposed  over  the  visage  in  a  variety  of 
patterns.  Calico  shirts,  red  and  blue  blankets,  brass  ear-rings,  wani- 


Till',    (  )Ki:(i(»N    'I'UAII. 


17 


n  nrrkl.uTS.  apiwarcd  in  pro  fusion.  'Ilir  trader  was  a  blin*  cyccl 
Ml  fa(<'<l  man  vvlm  nj-itlur  in  his  maimers  nni  his  a|i|>rarati(r 
trayed  any  'd  ihc  ron^^lincss  nf  Ihc  frcmtirr;  thnn^^h  jnsf  at  pres- 
hc  was  ohh^'rd  to  keep  a  lynx  (•y<'  <»n  Ins  snspieions  cnstoinrrs, 
l(),  men  and  women,  were  ehmhinf;  on  his  counter  and  seating 
fniselves  amoii^,'  his  hox<'s  and  hales. 

"he  villaj^'e  itself  was  not   far  (dT,  and  stiriieiently  ilhistrated  the 

Edition  of  its  mifortnnate  and  self  ahandoned  (»eenpants.  haney 

yonrs<lf  a  little  swift  stream,  working,'  its  devions  way  d(»wn  u 

|)ody  valley  ;  sometimes  wholly  hidden  mider  lo^'s  and  fallen  trees, 

Inelimes  issnin^'  forth  and  spteadin^  into  a  hr(»ad,  elear  pool ;  and 

its  hanks  in  little  nooks  cleared  away  am«»n^'  the  trees,  jnin- 

jure  lo^^-hotises  in  ntter  rnin  and  tiej.jleet.  A  lahyrinth  (»f  narrf»w. 

Jtrncted   paths   comieeted   these   hahitations  .one    with   another. 

iietimes  we  tnet  a  stray  ealf.  a  |)i^;  or  a  pony,  helon^inj^'  to  some 

|the  villagers,  who  nsnally  lay  in  the  snn  in  front  of  their  dw<I- 

fs,  and  looked  on  ns  with  cold,  stispicions  eyes  as  we  api»roached. 

[rther  on,  in  place  of  the  lo^  hnts  of  the  Kickapoos,  we  foimd 

pnkwi  lodges  of  their  nei^hhors,  the   i'ottawattamies,  whose; 

idition  seemed  no  hetter  ihafi  theirs. 

Irowin^  tired  at  last,  and  exhanste<l  hy  the  excessive  heat  and 
[triness  of  the  day,  we  returned  to  onr  friend,  the  trader,  I'.y  this 
ic  the  crowd  aronnd  him  had  disj)ersed,  and  left  him  at  leisnre. 
invited  ns  to  his  cottaK^',  a  little  white-atid-^'reen  huihlin^',  in 
style  of  the  old  hVench  settlements  ;  and  nshered  ns  into  a  neat, 
|ll-fnrnished  room.  The  hlinds  were  closed,  and  the  heat  anrl 
ire  of  the  snn  exclndcd ;  the  room  was  as  cool  as  a  cavern.  It 
[s  neatly  carpeted  too  and  furnished  in  a  manner  that  we  hardly 
X'cted  on  the   frontier.  I'hc  sofas,  chairs,  tahles,  and  a  well- 
id  hookcase  would  not  have  disgraced  an  ICastern  city ;  though 
^re  were  one  or  two  little  tokens  that  indicated  the  rather  ques- 
lable  civilization  of  the  region.  A  pistol,  loaded  and  capperl,  lay 
the  mantelpiece;  and  through  the  glass  of  the  hookcase,  peeping 
)ve  the  works  of  John  Milton  glittered  the  handle  of  a  very  mis- 
Jevous-looking  knife. 

)ur  host  went  out,  and  returned  with  iced  water,  glasses,  and  a 
ttle  of  excellent  claret ;  a  refreshment  most  welcome  in  the  ex- 
|me  heat  of  the  day ;  and  soon  after  appeared  a  merry,  laughing 
bman,  who  must  have  been,  a  year  or  two  before,  a  very  rich 


18 


The  Oregon  Trail 


iiii 
W 

m 


and  luxuriant  specimen  of  Creole  beauty.  She  came  to  say  tha 
lunch  was  ready  in  the  next  room.  Our  hostess  evidently  lived  o;  i 
the  sunny  side  of  life,  and  troubled  herself  with  none  of  its  carer^ 
She  sat  down  and  entertained  us  while  we  were  at  table  with  anec 
dotes  of  fishing  parties,  frolics,  and  the  officers  at  the  fort.  Takir, 
leave  at  length  of  the  hospitable  trader  and  his  friend,  we  rode  bat 
to  the  garrison. 

Shaw  passed  on  to  the  camp,  while  I  remained  to  call  upc 
Colonel  Kearny.  I  found  him  still  at  table.  There  sat  our  frier 
the  captain,  in  the  same  remarkable  habiliments  in  which  we  sai 
him  at  Westport;  the  black  pipe,  however,  being  for  the  preser 
laid  aside.  He  dangled  his  little  cap  in  his  hand  and  talked  c 
steeple-chases,  touching  occasionally  upon  his  anticipated  exploi 
in  buffalo-hunting.  There,  too,  was  R.,  somewhat  more  eleganil 
attired.  For  the  last  time  we  tasted  the  luxuries  of  civilization,  an 
drank  adieus  to  it  in  wine  good  enough  to  make  us  almost  regrt 
the  leave-taking.  Then,  mountini^,  we  rode  together  to  the  camj 
where  everything  was  in  readiness  for  departure  on  the  morrow. 


i;  ir 


I 

1 


:!'! 


1  III 


li      l' 


ri 


I  I 


I"! 


(I 


Chapter  IV 
'JUMPING  OFF" 

The  reader  need  not  be  told  that  John  Bull  never  leaves  horn 
without  encumbering  himself  with  the  greatest  possible  load  c 
luggage.  Our  companions  were  no  exception  to  the  rule.  They  ha 
a  wagon  drawn  by  six  mules  and  crammed  with  provisions  for  si 
months,  besides  ammunition  enough  for  a  regiment;  spare  rifle 
and  fowling-pieces,  ropes  and  harness;  personal  baggage,  and 
miscellaneous  assortment  of  articles,  which  produced  infinite  eir 
barrassment  on  the  journey.  They  had  also  decorated  their  persoi. 
with  telescopes  and  portable  compasses,  and  carried  English  double 
barreled  rifles  of  sixteen  to  the  pound  caliber,  slung  to  their  saddle 
in  dragoon  fashion. 

By  sunrise  on  the  23d  of  May  we  had  breakfasted;  the  ten: 
were  leveled,  the  animals  saddled  and  harnessed,  and  all  was  pre 
pared.  '^Avance  done!  get  up!"  cried  Delorier  from  his  seat  i 


The  Oregon  Trail 


19 


)nt  of  the  cart.  Wright,  our  friend's  muleteer,  after  some  swear- 

and  lashing,  got  his  insubordinate  train  in  motion,  and  then  the 

lole  party  filed  from  the  ground.  Thus  we  bade  a  long  adieu  to 

\d  and  board,  and  the  principles  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries. 

le  day  was  a  most  auspicious  one ;  and  yet  Shaw  and  I  felt  cer- 

|in  misgivings,  which  in  the  sequel  proved  but  too  well  founded. 

^e  had  just  learned  that  though  R.  had  taken  it  upon  him  to  adopt 

lis  course  without  consulting  us,  not  a  single  man  in  the  party  was 

fquainted  with  it ;  and  the  absurdity  of  our  friend's  high-handed 

(easure  very  soon  became  manifest.  His  plan  was  to  strike  the 

lil  of  several  companies  of  dragoons,  who  last  summer  had  made 

expedition  under  Colonel  Kearny  to  Fort  Laramie,  and  by  this 

Jans  to  reach  the  grand  trail  of  the  Oregon  emigrants  up  the 

latte. 

We  rode  for  an  hour  or  two  when  a  familiar  cluster  of  buildings 
}peared  on  a  little  hill.  "Hallo!"  shouted  the  Kickapoo  trader 
(cm  over  his  fence.  "Where  are  you  going?"  A  few  rather 
iphatic  exclamations  might  have  been  heard  among  us,  when  we 
fund  that  we  had  gone  miles  out  of  our  way,  and  were  not  ad- 
iced  an  inch  toward  the  Rocky  Mountains.  So  we  turned  in 
\e  direction  the  trader  indicated,  and  with  the  sun  for  a  guide, 
bgan  to  trace  a  "bee  line"  across  the  prairies.  We  struggled 
frough  copses  and  lines  of  wood ;  we  waded  brooks  and  pools  of 
iter;  we  traversed  prairies  as  green  as  an  emerald,  expanding 
if  ore  us  for  mile  after  mile ;  wider  and  more  wild  than  ^he  wast 
[azeppa  rode joverj       /u  /f  Z i'T'/'  ^  "^      !)f?  w^^/^ 

"Man  nor  brute, 
Nor  dint  of  hoof,  nor  print  of  foot, 
Lay  in  the  wild  Ittxuriant  soil; 
No  sign  of  travel;  none  of  toil; 
The  very  air  was  mute." 

Riding  in  advance,  we  passed  over  one  of  these  great  plains ; 
^e  looked  back  and  saw  the  line  of  scattered  horsemen  stretching 
)r  a  mile  or  more ;  and  far  in  the  rear  agaii.st  the  horizon,  the  white 
^agons  creeping  slowly  along.  "Here  we  are  at  last !"  shouted  the 
iptain.  And  in  truth  we  had  struck  upon  the  traces  of  a  large  body 

horse.  We  turned  joyfully  and  followed  this  new  course,  with 
tnpers  somewhat  improved;  and  toward  sunset  encamped  on  a 


V 


20 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I  i 


r 


I  ! 


Ill 


i!  I 


high  swell  of  the  prairie,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  lazy  stream  soakH 
along  through  clumps  of  rank  grass.  It  was  getting  dark.  "We 
turned  the  horses  loose  to  feed.  "Drive  down  the  tent-pickets  hard,' 
said  Henry  Chatillon,  "it  is  going  to  blo^u!'  We  did  so,  and  securec 
the  tent  as  well  as  ^ve"could;  lor  the  sky  had  changed  totally,  and 
a  fresh  damp  smell  in  the  wind  warned  us  that  a  stormy  night  was 
likely  to  succeed  the  hot  clear  day.  The  prairie  also  wore  a  new 
aspect,  and  its  vast  swells  had  grown  black  and  somber  under  the 
shadow  of  the  clouds.  The  thunder  soon  began  to  growl  at  a  dis- 
tance. Picketing  and  hobbling  the  horses  among  the  rich  grass  at 
the  foot  of  the  slope,  where  we  encamped,  we  gained  a  shelter  just 
as  the  rain  began  to  fall ;  and  sat  at  the  opening  of  the  tent,  watch- 
ing the  proceedings  of  the  captain.  In  defiance  of  the  rain  he  was 
stalking  among  the  horses,  wrapped  in  an  old  Scotch  plaid.  An 
extreqie.  solicitude^rmented  him,  lest  some  of  his  favorites  should 
escape,  orTome  accident  should  befall  them ;  and  he  cast  an  anxious 
eye  toward  three  wolves  who  were  sneaking  along  over  the  dreary 
surface  of  the  plain,  as  if  he  dreaded  some  hostile  demonstration 
on  their  part. 

On  the  next  morning  we  had  gone  but  a  mile  or  two,  when  we 
came  to  an  extensive  belt  of  woods,  through  the  midst  of  which 
ran  a  stream,  wide,  deep,  and  of  an  appearance  particularly  muddy 
and  treacherous.  Delorier  was  in  advance  with  his  cart ;  he  jerked 
his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  lashed  his  mules,  and  poured  forth  a  volley 
of  Canadian  ejaculations.  In  plunged  the  cart,  but  midway  it  stuck 
fast.  Delorier  leaped  out  knee-deep  in  water,  and  by  dint  of  sacra 
and  a  vigorous  application  of  the  whip,  he  urged  the  mules  out  of 
the  slough.  Then  approached  the  long  team  and  heavy  wagon  of 
our  friends ;  but  it  paused  on  the  brink. 

"Now  my  advice  is — "  began  the  captain,  who  had  been  anx- 
iously contemplating  the  muddy  gulf. 

"Drive  on !"  cried  R. 

But  Wright,  the  muleteer,  apparently  had  not  as  yet  decided  the 
point  in  his  own  mind;  and  he  sat  still  in  his  seat  on  one  of  the 
shaft-mules,  whistling  in  a  low  contemplative  strain  to  himself. 

"My  advice  is,"  resumed  the  captain,  "that  we  unload ;  for  I'll 
bet  any  man  five  pounds  that  if  we  try  to  go  through,  we  shall  stick 
fast." 


:  i 


stream  soaked 
ting  dark.  "We 
:-pickets  hard,' 
so,  and  secured 
^ed  totally,  anc 
)rmy  night  was 
3o  wore  a  new 
nber  under  the 
growl  at  a  dis- 
e  rich  grass  at 
d  a  shelter  just 
he  tent,  watch- 
he  rain  he  was 
otch  plaid.  An 
avorites  should 
cast  an  anxious 
)ver  the  dreary 

demonstration 

two,  when  we 
Tiidst  of  which 
icularly  muddy 
:art :  he  jerked 
1  forth  a  volley 
lidway  it  stuck 
dint  of  sacm 
mules  out  of 
avy  wagon  of 

had  been  anx- 


ret  decided  the 
on  one  of  the 
to  himself, 
nload;  for  I'll 
we  shall  stick 


The  Oregon  Trail 


21 


By  the  powers,  we  shall  stick  fast !"  echoed  Jack,  the  captain's 
ther,  shaking  his  large  head  with  an  air  of  firm  conviction. 
Di  ive  on !  drive  on !"  cried  R.  petulantly. 

ell,"  observed  the  captain,  turning  to  us  as  we  sat  looking 

much  edified  by  this  by-play  among  our  confederates,  "I  can 

give  my  advice  and  if  people  won't  be  reasonable,  why,  they 

I't ;  that's  all !" 

eanwhile  Wright  had  apparently  made  up  his  mind;  for  he 
[denly  began  to  shout  forth  a  volley  of  oaths  and  curses,  that, 
compared  with  the  French  imprecations  of  Delorier,  sounded  like 
the  roaring  of  heavy  cannon  after  the  popping  and  sputtering  of  a 
btioch  of  Chinese  crackers.  At  the  same  time  he  discharged  a 
sbg^rer  of  blows  upon  his  mules,  who  hastily  dived  into  the  mud 
aiMl  drew  the  wagon  lumbering  after  them.  For  a  moment  the  issue 
wi^  dubious.  Wright  writhed  about  in  his  saddle,  and  swore  and 
Uuj(ed  like  a  madman ;  but  who  can  count  on  a  team  of  half -broken 
les?  At  the  most  critical  point,  when  all  should  have  been 
lony  and  combined  effort,  the  perverse  brutes  fell  into  lament- 
disorder,  and  huddled  together  in  confusion  on  the  farther 
.  There  was  the  wagon  up  to  the  hub  in  mud,  and  visibly 
ling  every  instant.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  unload ;  then 
iig  away  the  mud  from  before  the  wheels  with  a  spade,  and  lay 
luseway  of  bushes  and  branches.  This  agreeable  labor  accom- 
led,  the  wagon  at  length  emerged ;  but  if  I  mention  that  some 
irruption  of  this  sort  occurred  at  least  four  or  five  times  a  day 
a  fortnight,  the  reader  will  understand  that  our  progress  toward 
Platte  was  not  without  its  obstacles. 

e  traveled  six  or  seven  miles  farther,  and  "nooned"  near  a 

►k.  On  the  point  of  resuming  our  journey,  when  the  horses  were 

riven  down  to  water,  my  homesick  charger,  Pnyiij^c^  \nade  a_ 

ien  leap  aciosd-,  and  set  off  at  a  round  trot  for  the  settlements. 

lounted  my  remaining  horse,  and  started  in  pursuit.  Making 

Ircuit,  I  headed  the  runaway,  hoping  to  drive  him  back  to  camp ; 

he  instantly  broke  into  a  gallop,  made  a  wide  tour  on  the  prairie, 

got  past  me  again.  I  tried  this  plan  repeatedly,  with  the  same 

[It;  Pontiac  was  evidently  disgusted  with  the  prairie;  so  I 

idoned  it,  and  tried  another,  trotting  along  gently  behind  him, 

lopes  that  I  might  quietly  get  near  enough  to  seize  the  trail- 


^1 


',  ' 


■f'l 


I       i 


\ 


i;  • 


'7"> 


TitK  Orec.on  Trail 


ro|x:  which  was  fastened  to  his  neck,  and  dragged  ahout  a  doj 
feet  behind  liini.  The  chase  j^rew  interesting.  For  mile  after  n 
T  followed  the  rascal,  with  the  utmost  care  not  to  alarm  him, 
gradnally  got  nearer,  until  at  length  old  Hendrick's  nose  was  fa: 
brushed  hy  the  whisking  tail  of  the  unsuspecting  Pontiac.  Witln 
ilrawing  rein,  I  slid  softly  to  the  ground ;  hut  my  long  heavy  r: 
encmnhered  me,  and  the  low  sound  it  made  in  striking  the  horti 
the  saddle  startled  him  ;  he  pricked  up  his  cars,  and  sprang  olTa 
run.  "My  friend."  thought  1,  remounting,  "do  that  again,  anc 
will  shoot  you  I" 

Inirt  Leavenworth  was  ahout  forty  miles  distant,  and  thitlic! 
determined  to  follow  him.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  spend  a  solit; 
and  supperless  night,  and  then  set  out  again  in  the  morning.  ( 
hope,  however,  remained.  The  creek  where  the  wagon  had  stu 
was  just  before  us;  Pontiac  might  be  thirsty  with  his  run,  a 
stop  there  to  drink.  I  kept  as  near  to  him  as  possible,  taking  eve 
precaution  not  to  alarm  him  again;  and  the  rCvSult  proved  asd  Ii 
hoped :  for  he  walked  deliberately  among  the  trees,  and  stoop 
down  to  the  water.  I  alighted,  dragged  old  Hendrick  through  t 
mud,  and  with  a  feeling  of  infinite  satisfaction  picked  up  the  slir 
trail-rope  and  twisted  it  three  times  round  my  hand.  "Now  let  r 
see  you  get  away  again !"  I  thought,  as  I  remounted.  But  Pont; 
was  exceedingly  reluctant  to  turn  back ;  Hendrick,  too,  who  li 
evidently  flattered  himself  v/ith  vain  hopes,  showed  the  utm 
repugnance,  and  grumbled  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself  at  bei; 
compelled  to  face  about.  A  smart  cut  of  the  whip  restored  [ 
cheerfulness ;  and  dragging  the  recovered  truant  behind,  I  set  o 
in  search  of  the  camp.  An  hour  or  two  elapsed,  when,  near  sunst 
I  saw  the  tents,  standing  on  a  rich  swell  of  the  prairie,  beyond 
line  of  woods,  while  the  bands  of  horses  were  feeding  in  a  lo 
meadow  close  at  hand.  There  sat  Jack  C,  cross-legged,  in  the  sii 
splicing  a  trail-rope,  and  the  rest  were  lying  on  the  grass,  smokir 
and  telling  stories.  That  night  we  enjoyed  a  serenade  from  t^ 
wolves,  more  lively  than  any  with  which  they  had  yet  favored  u; 
and  in  the  morning  one  of  the  musicians  appeared,  not  many  ro( 
from  the  tents,  quietly  seated  among  the  horses,  looking  at  us  wi; 
a  pair  of  large  gray  eyes ;  but  perceiving  a  rifle  leveled  at  him,  i 
leaj^ed  up  and  made  off  in  hot  haste. 

I  pass  by  the  following  day  or  two  of  our  journey,  for  nothir. 


The  Orkc.on  Trail 


23 


2[cd  about  a  doj 
nr  mile  after  n 
to  alarm  him. , 
c's  nose  was  fa; 
Pontiac.  Witln 
y  long  heavy  r, 
rikinp  the  hnrti 
nd  sprang  olT  a 
that  again,  am: 

ant,  and  thithe 
o  spend  a  sol  it: 
the  morning.  ( 
wagon  had  stii 
vith  his  run,  a 
jible,  taking  ( vi 
t  proved  as. I  Ii 
rees,  and  stoop 
drick  through  i 
eked  up  the  slir 
md.  "Now  let  r 
ited.  But  Pont; 
ck,  too,  who  li 
owed  the  utmc 
>  himself  at  bci: 
vhip  restored  I 
behind,  I  set  o 
dien,  near  sutist 
prairie,  beyond 
feeding  in  a  lo 
?gged,  in  the  sir 
le  grass,  smokir 
Tenade  from  t 
i  yet  favored  u; 
d,  not  many  rot 
Doking  at  us  wi: 
sveled  at  him.r. 

•ney,  for  nothir 


:urred  worthy  of  record.  Should  any  one  of  my  readers  ever  be 
M'llcd  to  visit  the  prairies,  and  should  he  choose  the  route  of 

f^latte  (the  best,  perhaps,  that  can  be  adopted),  I  can  assure 
that  he  need  not  think  to  enter  at  once  ujK)n  the  paradise  of 

imagination.  A  dreary  preliminary,  protracted  crossing  of  the 
teshold  awaits  him  before  he  finds  iiimself  fairly  ujxin  the  verge    / 
the  "great  American  desert";  those  barren  wastes,  the  hrumtsf 
the  bufTalo  and  the  Tndlan,  where  the  very  shadow  of  civiliza- 
lies  a  hundred  leagues  behind  him.  The  intervening  country, 

wide  and  fertile  belt  that  extends   for  several  hundred  miles 
'ond  the  extreme  frontier,  will  probably  answer  tolerably  well 
t<t"his  preconceived  ideas  of  the  [)rairie ;  for  this  it  is  from  which 

:uresque  tourists,  painters,  poets,  and  novelists,  who  have  sel- 
penetrated    farther,   have   derived  their  conceptions  of   the 

le  region.  If  he  has  a  painter's  eye,  he  may  find  his  period  of 
ibation  not  wholly  void  of  interest.  The  scenery,  though  tame, 

graceful  and  pleasing.  Here  are  level  plains,  too  wide  for  the 

to  measure ;  green  undulations,  like  motionless  swells  of  the 
fan;  abundance  of  streams,  followed  through  all  their  windings 

lines  of  woods  and  scattered  groves.  But  let  him  be  as  en- 
isiastic  as  he  may,  he  will  find  enough  to  damp  his  ardor.  His 

[ons  will  stick  in  the  mud ;  his  horses  will  break  loose ;  harness 
|1  give  way,  and  axle-trees  prove  unsound.  His  bed  will  be  a  soft 
I,  consisting  often  of  black  mud,  of  the  richest  consistency.  As 

food,  he  must  content  himself  with  biscuit  and  salt  provisions ; 

strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  tract  of  country  produces  very 
jle  game.  As  he  advances,  indeed,  he  will  see,  moldering  in  the 
iss  by  his  path,  the  vast  antlers  of  the  elk,  and  farther  on,  the 
litened  skulls  of  the  buffalo,  once  swarming  over  this  now 
lerted  region.  Perhaps,  like  us,  he  may  journey  for  a  fortnight, 
see  not  so  much  as  the  hoof-print  of  a  deer;  in  the  spring, 

even  a  prairie  hen  is  to  be  had. 

et,  to  compensate  him  for  this  unlooked-for  deficiency  of  game,  ^ 
will  find  himself  beset  with  "varmints"  innumerable.  The  wolves   y^ 
111  entertain  him  with  a  concer!5'  at  Tllgllt,  Slid  skulk  around  him 

day,  just  beyond  rifle  shot;  his  horse  will  step  into  badger- 

lles ;  from  every  marsh  and  mud  puddle  will  arise  the  bellowing, 

taking,  and  trilling  of  legions  of  frogs,  infinitely  various  in  color, 

ipe  and  dimensions.  A  profusion  of  snakes  will  glide  away  from 


f 


d*' 


,-*•'- 


y 


X 


II'     ! 

'i 


i 


'  I 


24 


The  Oregon  Trail 


under  his  horse's  feet,  or  quietly  visit  him  in  his  tent  at  night 
while  the  pertinacious  humming  of  unnumbered  mosquitoes  ^\i 
banish  sleep  from  his  eyelids.  When  thirsty  with  a  long  ride  i 
the  scorching  sun  over  some  boundless  reach  of  prairie,  he  conie 
at  length  to  a  pool  of  water,  and  alights  to  drink,  he  discovers 
troop  of  young  tadpoles  sporting  in  the  bottom  of  his  cup.  Add  t 
this,  that  all  the  morning  the  hot  sun  beats  upon  him  with  sultn 
penetrating  heat,  and  that,  with  provoking  regularity,  at  aboi 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  a  thunderstorm  rises  and  drenche 
him  to  the  skin.  Such  being  the  charms  oi  this  favored  region,  tli 
reader  will  easily  conceive  the  extent  of  our  gratification  at  learn 
ing  that  for  a  week  we  had  been  journeying  on  the  wrong  trad 
How  this  agreeable  discovery  was  made  I  will  presently  explair 

One  day,  after  a  protracted  morning's  ride,  we  stopped  to  rt: 
at  noon  upon  the  open  prairie.  No  trees  were  m  sight ;  but  close  i 
hand,  a  little  dribbling  brook  was  twisting  from  side  to  side  througl 
a  hollow ;  now  forming  holes  of  stagnant  water,  and  now  glidin: 
over  the  mud  in  a  scarcely  perceptible  current,  among  a  growth  o: 
sickly  bushes,  and  great  clumps  of  tall  rank  grass.  The  day  wi 
excessively  hot  and  oppressive.  The  horses  and  mules  were  rolliiij 
on  the  prairie  to  refresh  themselves,  or  feeding  among  the  bushc; 
in  the  hollow.  We  had  dined;  and  Delorier,  puffing  at  his  pijx 
knelt  on  the  grass,  scrubbing  our  service  of  tin  plate.  Shaw  lay  ii 
the  shade,  under  the  cart,  to  rest  for  a  while,  before  the  won 
should  be  given  to  "catch  up."  Henry  Chatillon,  before  lying  down 
was  looking  about  for  signs  of  snakes,  the  only  living  things  that  hi 
feared,  and  uttering  various  ejaculations  of  disgust,  at  finding 
several  suspicious-looking  holes  close  to  the  cart.  I  sat  leaninf 
against  the  wheel  in  a  scanty  strip  of  shade,  making  a  pair  o; 
hobbles  to  replace  those  which  my  contumacious  steed  Pontiac  ha( 
broken  the  night  before.  The  camp  of  bur  friends,  a  rod  or  twc 
distant,  presented  the  same  scene  of  lazy  tranquillity. 

"Hallo!"  cried  Henry,  looking  up  from  his  inspection  of  ths 
snake-holes,  "here  comes  the  old  captain !" 

The  captain  approached,  and  stood  for  a  moment  contemplating 
us  in  silence. 

"I  say,  Parkman,"  he  began,  "look  at  Shaw  there,  asleep  unde: 
the  cart,  with  the  tar  dripping  off  the  hub  of  the  wheel  on  hii 
shoulder !" 


are 
'Th 
[sen 

insi 


The  Oregon  Trail 


25 


s  tent  at  nigh 
mosquitoes  wi 
I  a  long  ride  i 
rairie,  he  conie 
,  he  discovers 
his  cup.  Add  t 
lim  with  sultn 
larity,  at  aboi 
:s  and  drenclie 
ored  region,  tli 
ication  at  learn 
le  wrong  tracli 
esently  explair 
stopped  to  res 
jht ;  but  close  i 
'.  to  side  throng; 
,nd  now  glidim 
)ng  a  growth  o: 

The  day  wi 
les  were  rolHii; 
long  the  bushc: 
ng  at  his  pipe 
te.  Shaw  lay  ii 
efore  the  won 
ore  lying  down 
g  things  that  li! 
ust,  at  findin; 

I  sat  leaninf 
king  a  pair  o: 
;ed  Pontiac  hac 

a  rod  or  twc 
lity. 
pection  of  tlif 

:  contemplating 

e,  asleep  unde; 
t  wheel  on  his 


t  this  Shaw  got  up,  with  his  eyes  half  opened,  and  feeling  the 
indicated,  he  found  his  hand  glued  fast  to  his  red  flannel  shirt. 
He'll  look  well  when  he  gets  among  the  squaws,  won't  he?" 
rved  the  captain,  with  a  grin. 

e  then  crawled  under  the  cart^^and  began  to  tell  stories  of  which 
stock  was  inexhaustible.  Y^  every  moment  he  would  glance 
njjvously  at  the  horses.  At  last  he  jumped  up  in  great  excitement. 
**S$c  that  horse!  There — that  fellow  just  walking  over  the  hill! 
"^  Jove  ;  he's  off.  It's  your  big  horse,  Shaw  ;  no  it  isn't,  it's  Jack's ! 
Jalik !  Jack !  hallo,  Jack !"  Jack  thus  invoked,  jumped  up  and  stared 
VtiFintly  at  us. 

**Go  and  catch  your  horse,  if  you  don't  want  to  lose  him!" 
roired  the  captain. 

lack  instantly  set  off  at  a  run  through  the  grass,  his  broad 
pl^aloons  flapping  about  his  feet.  The  captain  gazed  anxiously  till 
h€i  law  that  the  horse  was  caught ;  then  he  sat  down,  with  a  counte- 
nance of  thought  fulness  and  care. 

tell  you  what  it  is,"  he  said,  "this  will  never  do  at  all.  We 

I  lose  every  horse  in  the  band  someday  or  other,  and  then  a 

ty  plight  we  should  be  in !  Now  I  am  convinced  that  the  only 

for  us  is  to  have  every  man  in  the  camp  stand  horse-guard  in 

tion  whenever  we  stop.  Supposing  a  hundred  Pawnees  should 

p  up  out  of  that  ravine,  all  yelling  and  flapping  their  buffalo 

s,  in  the  way  they  do  ?  Why,  in  two  minutes  not  a  hoof  would 

[in  sight."  We  reminded  the  captain  that  a  hundred  Pawnees 

Id  probably  demolish  the  horse-guard,  if  he  were  to  resist  their 

iredations. 

At  any  rate,"  pursued  the  captain,  evading  the  point,  "our 
le  system  is  wrong ;  I'm  convinced  of  it ;  it  is  totally  unmilitary. 
y,  the  way  we  travel,  strung  out  over  the  prairie  for  a  mile, 
nemy  might  attack  the  foremost  men,  and  cut  them  off  before 
rest  could  come  up." 

e  are  not  in  an  enemy's  country,  yet,"  said  Shaw;  "when 
are,  we'll  travel  together." 

Then,"  said  the  captain,  "we  might  be  attacked  in  camp.  We've 
sentinels ;  we  camp  in  disorder ;  no  precautions  at  all  to  guard 
inst  surprise- Mv  nwr^  rnnvirtions  are  that  we  oup^h^  ty  capip    \J 
^hollow  square,  with  the  fires  in  the  center ;  and  have  sentinels,      ^ 
a  regular  password  appointed  for  every  night.  Besides,  there 


tl\ 


'  j\ 


:  u 


II  'j 


*  i  '. 


i;  ii 


H  !i 


26 


The  Oregon  Trail 


<'  'i 


should  be  vedettes,  riding  in  advance,  to  find  a  place  for  the  car 
and  give  warning  of  an  enemy.  These  are  my  convictions.  I  do: 
want  to  dictate  to  any  man.  I  give  advice  to  the  best  of  my  jud 
ment,  that's  all ;  and  then  let  people  do  as  they  please." 

We  intimated  that  perhaps  it  would  be  as  well  to  postpone  su; 
burdensome  precautions  until  there  should  be  some  actual  need 
them  ;  but  he  shook  his  head  dubiously.  The  captain's  sense  of  im 
tary  propriety  had  been  severely  shocked  by  what  he  consitkrt 
the  irregular  proceedings  of  the  party ;  and  this  was  not  the  fi: 
time  he  had  expressed  himself  upon  the  subject.  But  his  convictio: 
seldom  produced  any  practical  results.  In  the  present  case,  he  co 
tented  himself,  as  usual,  with  enlarging  on  the  importance  of  [ 
suggestions,  and  wondering  that  they  were  not  adopted.  But  [ 
plan  of  sending  out  vedettes  seemed  particularly  dear  to  him ;  a: 
as  no  one  else  was  disposed  to  second  his  views  on  this  point,: 
took  it  into  hs  head  to  ride  forward  that  afternoon,  himself. 

"Come,  Parkman,"  said  he,  "will  you  go  with  me?" 

We  set  out  together,  and  rode  a  mile  or  two  in  advance.  T: 
captain,  in  the  course  of  twenty  years'  service  in  the  British  am 
had  seen  something  of  life  ;  one  extensive  side  of  it,  at  least,  he  h 
enjoyed  the  best  opportunities  for  studying;  and  being  natural 
a  pleasant  fellow,  he  was  a  very  entertaining  companion.  I 
cracked  jokes  and  told  stories  for  an  hour  or  two;  until,  lookir 
back,  we  saw  the  prairie  behind  us  stretching  away  to  the  horizc 
without  a  horseman  or  a  wagon  in  sight. 

"Now,"  said  the  captain,  "I  think  the  vedettes  had  better  stc 
till  the  main  body  comes  up." 

I  was  of  the  same  opinion.  There  was  a  thick  growth  of  woo; 
just  before  us,  with  a  stream  running  through  them.  Having  crosst 
this,  we  found  on  the  other  side  a  fine  level  meadow,  half  encirclt 
by  the  trees ;  and  fastening  our  horses  to  some  bushes,  we  sat  dow 
on  the  grass;  while,  with  an  old  stump  of  a  tree  for  a  target, 
began  to  display  the  superiority  of  the  renowned  rifle  of  the  ba; 
woods  over  the  foreign  innovation  borne  by  the  captain.  At  leng*. 
voices  could  be  heard  in  the  distance  behind  the  trees. 

"There  they  come !"  said  the  captain :  "let's  go  and  see  how  tlif 
get  through  the  creek." 

We  mounted  and  rode  to  the  bank  of  the  stream,  where  the  tn 
crossed  it.  It  ran  in  a  deep  hollow,  full  of  trees ;  as  we  looked  dow: j 


lii'i^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


27 


ace  for  the  car 
ivictions.  I  dor 
best  of  my  jud 
ease." 

to  postpone  si 
le  actual  need 
n's  sense  of  mi 
at  he  consider 
was  not  the  fi; 
Lit  his  convictio 
icnt  case,  he  cc 
nportance  of ! 
adopted.  But  \ 
dear  to  him  ;  a: 
on  this  point,: 
1,  himself, 
me?" 

in  advance.  T; 
:he  British  arit 
t,  at  least,  he  li: 
1  being  natura. 
companion.  \ 
o;  until,  lookir 
y  to  the  horizo 

had  better  st{ 

growth  of  wooi 
.  Having  crosst 
w,  half  encirck 
hes,  we  sat  dow 
;  for  a  target, 
rifle  of  the  ba; 
iptain.  At  leng*. 
trees, 
md  see  how  tlit 

1,  where  the  tri; 
we  looked  dow 


saw  a  confused  crowd  of  horsemen  riding  through  the  water ; 
among  the  dingy  habiliment  of  our  party  glittered  the  uniforms 
four  dragoons. 

)haw  came  whipping  his  horse  up  the  back,  in  advance  of  the 

with  a  somewhat  indignant  countenance.  The  first  word  he 

ike  was  a  blessing  fervently  invoked  on  the  head  of  R.,  who  was 

Bng,  with  a  crest-fallen  air,  in  the  rear.  Thanks  to  the  ingenious 

tices  of  the  gentleman,  we  had  missed  the  track  entirely,  and 
idered,  not  toward  the  Platte,  but  to  the  village  of  the  Iowa 
Indians.  This  we  learned  from  the  dragoons,  who  had  lately 
dllerted  from  Fort  Leavenworth.  They  told  us  that  our  best  plan 
t09i  was  to  keep  to  the  northward  until  we  should  strike  the  trail 
fofrned  by  several  parties  of  Oregon  emigrants,  who  had  that  sea- 
•0^  set  out  from  St.  Joseph's  in  Missouri. 

in  extremely  bad  temper,  we  encamped  on  this  ill-starred  spot ; 
wllile  the  deserters,  whose  case  admitted  of  no  delay  rode  rapidly 
forward.  On  the  day  following,  striking  the  St.  Joseph's  trail,  we 
ttipned  our  horses'  heads  toward  Fort  Laramie,  then  about  seven 
hipidred  miles  to  the  westward. 


Chapter  V 
"THE  BIG  BLUE" 

[E  GREAT  MEDLEY  of  Oregon  and  California  emigrants,  at  their 
ips  around  Independence,  had  heard  reports  that  several  ad- 

ponal  parties  were  on  the  point  of  setting  out  from  St.  Joseph's 
ther  to  the  northward.  The  prevailing  impression  was  that  these 

|re  Mormons,  twenty-three  hundred  in  number;  and  a  great 
rm  was  excited  in  consequence.  The  people  of  Illinois  and  Mis- 
iri,  who  composed  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  emigrants,  have 
rer  been  on  the  best  terms  with  the  "Latter  Day  Saints" ;  and 

bs  notorious  throughout  the  country  ttOW  fflUdi  btooH^as  been 

]lt  in  their  feuds,  even  far  within  the  limits  of  the  settlements, 
one  could  predict  what  would  be  the  result,  when  large  armed 
lies  of  these  fanatics  should  encounter  the  most  impetuous  and 
dess  of  their  old  enemies  on  the  broad  prairie,  far  beyond  the 

ich  of  law  or  military  force.  The  women  and  children  at  In- 


Hi 


«i 


i 


ll    •: 


i 


1  i. 


!i 


i;i 


28 


Tmk  ( )Ri:(i()N  Thai  I. 


(IcprtulciuT  raised  a  jjrcat  outcry:  iho  turn  thnnsolvrs  wrrr  srr 
otisly  alarmed;  and.  as  1  loarno<|,  tlicy  sotU  to  C'olnnrl  Kcanry.  r 
(luostin^  an  rsrort  of  draj;«»ons  as  far  as  the  I  Matte.  This  was  r- 
fused  ;  atul  as  the  se«inel  |)roved.  there  was  n(»  oeeasion  for  it.  T|; 
St.  Joseph's  (Mui^rants  were  as  j;o(k1  (  hristians  and  as  /raloi 
Mormon-haters  as  the  rest ;  and  the  very  few  famihes  (»f  th 
"Saitits"  who  passed  otit  this  season  hy  the  route  of  the  IMatterf 
mained  hehind  until  the  ^reat  tide  of  emij^ration  had  ^one  In 
standing  in  (juite  as  much  awe  of  the  "gentiles"  as  the  latter  d 
of  them. 

Wc  were  tiow,  as  I  heforo  mentioned,  upon  this  St.  JosepK 
trail.  It  was  evident,  hy  the  traces,  tliat  larj;;e  p.irties  were  a  fr 
days  in  advance  of  us ;  and  as  we  too  supposed  them  to  he  Mn 
nions,  we  had  some  apprehension  of  interruption. 

The  journey  was  somewhat  monotonous.  ( )ne  day  wc  rode  c 
for  hours,  without  seeing  a  tree  or  a  l)ush ;  hefore,  hehind,  and  o 
cither  side,  stretched  the  vast  exjxuise,  rolling  in  a  succession  i 
graceful  sw^ells.  covered  with  the  unbroken  carpet  of  fresh  gm 
grass.  I  Icre  and  there  a  crow,  or  a  raven,  or  a  turkey-buzzard,  n 
licvTd  the  utiifonnity. 

"What  shall  we  do  to-night  for  wood  and  water?"  we  began 
ask  of  eacli  other ;  for  the  sun  was  within  ati  hour  of  setting.  ; 
length  a  dark  green  s|ieck  appeared,  far  otf  on  the  right ;  it  m 
the  top  of  a  tree,  peering  oyer  a  swell  of  the  prairie ;  and  leavin 
the  trail,  we  made  all  haste  toward  it.  It  proved  to  be  the  vanguar 
of  a  cluster  of  bushes  and  low  trees,  that  surrounded  some  poo 
of  water  in  an  extensive  hollow ;  so  we  encamped  on  the  risk 
ground  near  it. 

Shaw  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  tent,  when  Delorier  thrust  li: 
brown  face  and  old  felt  hat  into  the  opening,  and  dilating  his  eye 
to  their  utmost  extent,  announced  supper.  There  were  the  tin  cup 
and  the  iron  s'iX)ons.  arranged  in  military  order  on  the  grass,  an 
the  coffee-jx)t  predominant  in  the  midst.  The  meal  was  soon  di; 
patched;  but  Henry  Chatillon  still  sat  cross-legged,  dallying  wiii 
the  remnant  of  his  coflfee,  the  beverage  in  universal  use  upon  tb 
prairie,  and  an  especial  favorite  with  him.  He  preferred  it  in  iti 
virgin  flavor,  unimpaired  by  sugar  or  cream;  and  on  the  preset! 
occasion  it  n^et  his  entire  approval,  being  exceedingly  strong,  o:l 
as  he  expressed  it,  "right  black." 


TitK  Orkgon  Trail 


29 


rlvrs  wrrr  srr 
»!i('l  Kranry.  r 
l(\  This  was  r- 
»si()M  for  it.  'W 
and  as  zraldi 
families  of  tl 
i)f  tlir  IMattrp 
II  liad  ^(Uir  li\ 
as  the  latter  d; 

his  St.  Joscjili 

ties  were  a  fr 

hem  to  he  Mo- 

(lay  wc  rode  r 
,  hehind,  tind  o 
a  succession  t 
[  of  fresh  prcf 
key-buzzard,  n 

r?"  we  hv'gani 
ir  of  settinj^.  .\ 
he  right ;  it  w? 
ric ;  and  leavin 
be  the  vanguar 
ided  some  pdo 
d  on  the  risia 

lorier  thrust  li: 
dilating  his  eve 
;rere  the  tin  cup 
n  the  grass,  an 
il  was  soon  di; 
d,  dallying  wit 
sal  use  upon  tb 
eferred  it  in  it 
1  on  the  preset 
ingly  strong,  ci 


wa.s  a  rich  a!nl  gorgeous  sunset  — an  American  sunset ;  and 
ru<I<Iy  glow  of  the  sky  was  reflected  from  sofne  extensive  fxiols 
ater  among  the  sluulowy  copses  in  the  meadow  below, 
must  have  a  bath  to-night,"  said  Shaw.  "How  is  it,  Delorier?  V^ 
chance  for  a  swim  down  here?"  \ 

h!  I  cannot  tell;  just  as  you  please,  monsieur,"  replied 
rier,  shrugging  his  shotilders,  |>rrplexed  by  his  ignorance  of 
lish,  and  exlretnely  anxi»»tis  to  conform  in  all  respects  to  the 
ion  and  wishes  of  his  bourgeois. 

ook  at  his  moccasin,"  said   I.  "ft  has  evidently  been  lately 
iaiiiiersed  in  a  profound  abyss  of  black  mud." 

'•Come,"  said  Shaw ;  "at  any  rate  we  can  sec  for  ourselves." 

We  set  out  t<»getbcr;  and  as  we  ai»|)roached  the  bushes,  which 

ffVtt  at  some  distance,   wc  found   the  ground   iK-coming   rather 

tiqjrlii  run      We  could  only  get  along   by   stepj»ing   upon   large 

clullps  of  tall  rank  grass,  with  fathomless  gulfs  between,  like  in- 

nUlperable  little  (|uaking  islands  in  an  ocean  of  nuid,  where  a  false 

would  have  involved  our  boots  in  a  catastrophe  like  that  which 

befallen  Delorier's  moccasins.  The  thing  k)oked  des|x;rate ;  we 

rated,  so  as  to  search  in  difTerent  directions,  Shaw  going  off 

e  right,  while  I  kept  straight  forward.  At  last  I  came  to  the 

of  the  bushes:  they  were  young  waterwillows,  covered  with 

caterpillar-like  blossoms,  but  intervening  between  them  and 

ast  grass  clump  was  a  black  and  deep  slough,  over  which,  by 

orous  exertion,  I  contrived  to  jump.  Then  I  shouldered  my 

through  the  willows,  tramping  them  down  by  main  force,  till 

e  to  a  wide  stream  of  water,  three  inches  deep,  languidly 

ping  along  over  a  bottom  of  sleek  mud.  My  arrival  produced 

eat  commotion.  A  huge  green  bull-frog  uttered  an  indignant 

,  and  jumped  off  the  bank  with  a  loud  splash:  his  webbed 

twinkled  above  the  surface,  as  he  jerked  them  energetically 

ard,  and  I  could  see  him  ensconcing  himself  in  the  unresisting 

e  at  the  bottom,  whence  several  large  air  bubbles  struggled 

ly  to  the  top.  Some  little  spotted  frogs  instantly  followed  the 

larch's  example ;  and  then  three  turtles,  not  larger  than  a  dol- 

tumbled  themselves  off  a  broad  "lily  pad,"  where  they  had 

reposing.  At  the  same  time  a  snake,  gayly  striped  with  black 

yellow,  glided  out  from  the  bank,  and  writhed  across  to  the 

r  side ;  and  a  small  stagnant  pool  into  which  my  foot  had  in- 


ii 


I  , 


ir 


liii 


I  'i:i 


h 


30 


TiiK  Orecon  Trail 


j  ,1'!; 

IN' 


advertently  piishr<l  a  stone  was  instantly  alive  with  a  congregati 
of  l)lack  tadpoles. 

"Any  chance  for  a  hath,  where  yon  are  ?"  called  ont  Shaw,  fri 
a  distance. 

The  answer  was  not  encouraging.  I  retreated  throngh  the  v 
lows,  and  rejoining  my  companion,  we  proceeded  to  pnsh  our  r 
searches  in  com|>;uiy.  Not  far  on  the  right,  a  rising  ground,  o 
ered  with  trees  and  hushes,  seemed  to  sink  down  ahruptly  to  \ 
water,  and  give  Iiojk'  of  hetter  success;  so  toward  this  we  direct 
our  steps.  When  we  readied  the  place  we  found  it  no  easy  mat; 
to  get  along  hetween  the  hill  and  the  water,  impeded  as  we  \v( 
hy  a  growth  of  stitT,  ohstinate  young  !)irch-trees,  laced  together 
grapevines.  In  the  twilight,  we  now  and  then,  to  supiH)rt  ourseivi 
snatched  at  the  touch-me-not  stem  of  some  ancient  sweet-hrit 
Shaw,  who  was  in  advance,  suddenly  uttered  a  somewhat  tr 
phatic  nionosyllahle :  and  looking  up  I  saw  him  with  one  li,ii 
grasping  a  sapling,  and  one  foot  immersed  in  the  water,  from  win 
he  had  forgotten  to  withdraw  it,  his  whole  attention  heing  r 
gaged  in  contemplating  the  movements  of  a  water-snake,  abi 
five  feet  long,  curiously  checkered  with  hlack  and  green,  who  w 
deliherately  swimming  across  the  pool.  There  being  no  stick- 
stone  at  hand  to  i>clt  him  with,  we  looked  at  him  for  a  time 
silent  disgust;  and  then  pushed  forward.  Our  perseverence  was 
last  rewarded ;  for  several  rods  farther  on,  we  emerged  upon 
little  level  grassy  nook  among  the  brushwood,  and  by  an  extr 
ordinary  dispensation  of  fortune,  the  weeds  and  floating  stid 
which  elsewhere  covered  the  pool,  .'^eemed  to  liave  drawn  apai 
and  left  a  few  yards  of  clear  water  just  in  front  of  this  favort 
spot.  We  sounded  it  with  a  stick ;  it  was  four  feet  deep ;  we  11  fit 
a  specimen  in  our  closed  hands ;  it  seemed  reasonably  transparcr 
so  we  decided  that  the  time  for  action  was  arrived.  But  our  abl 
tions  were  suddenly  interrupted  by  ten  thousand  punctures,  lil 
poisoned  needles,  and  the  humming  of  myriads  of  over-grov 
jXjosquitoes,  rising  in  all  directions  from  their  native  mud  ar 
slime  and  swarming  to  the  feast.  We  were  fain  to  beat  a  retrf, 
with  all  possible  speed. 

We  made  toward  the  tents,  much  refreshed  by  the  bath  whk 
the  heat  of  the  weather,  joined  to  our  prejudices,  had  rendert 
very  desirable. 


ta^ 


h  a  congrcpati 
out  Sliaw,  fn 


Tiir.  Oregon  Trail  31 

^hat's  till"  matter  with  the  captain  ?  look  at  him  I"  said  Shaw. 
caj)taiti  stood  alone  on  the  prairie,  swin^inp  his  hat  violently 


(hrouj;h  the  v 
I  to  push  our  I 
inj;  ^jround.  o 


nd  his  head,  and  lifting'  first  one  foot  and  then  the  other,  with- 
movinj^  from  tlie  sp«)t.  h'irst  he  looked  down  to  the  ground 
an  air  of  supreme  ahhorrence;  then  he  ji^a/ed  uj)ward  with  a 
lexed  and  inchi^nant  countenance,  as  if  trying  to  trace  the  flij^ht 
of  "in  unseen  enemy.  We  called  to  know  what  was  the  matter;  hut 
1  ahruplly  to  !  j^|^^j^|-^,^j  ^^jj|^  l,y  execrations  directed  aj^ainst  some  unknown 
this  we  direct  <^y|ct.  We  approached,  when  our  ears  were  saluted  hy  a  droninjj 
it  no  easy  mat;  g0|||n|^  j^^  if  twenty  hee-hives  had  hecn  overturned  at  once.  The 
t'ded  as  we  wi  gj|i!-^bove  was  full  of  large  hlack  insects,  in  a  state  of  great  com- 
laced  together  jj|0|jon,  and  mtiltitudes  were  flying  ahout  just  ahovc  the  tops  of 
iipiK3rt  ourselv,  tht^^ass  l.lades. 

:ient  sweet-hii       iiD^j^'t  i,^  afraid."  called  the  captain,  ohserving  us  recoil.  "The 
I  scmiewhat  c  ^^^  ^^^^.^  sting." 

I  with  one  li,i:       m».  ^\^\^  j  knocked  one  down  with  my  hat,  and  discovered  him   ,y 

no  other  than  a  "dorhug" ;  and  looking  closer,  we  found  the  / 
nd  thickly  jierf orated  witTi'Their  holes. 

e  took  a  hasty  leave  of  this  flourishing  colony,  and  walking 
e  rising  ground  to  the  tents,  found  Delorier's  fire  still  glow- 
rightly.  We  sat  down  around  it,  and  Shaw  began  to  expatiate 
lie  admirable  facilities  for  bathing  that  we  had  discovered,  and 
mended  the  captain  by  all  means  to  go  down  there  before 
fast  in  the  morning.  The  captain  was  in  the  act  of  remarking 
he  couldn't  have  believed  it  possible,  when  he  suddenly  in- 
pted  himself,  and  clapped  his  hand  to  his  cheek,  exclaiming 
"those  infernal  humbugs  were  at  him  again."  In  fact,  we  began 
ear  sounds  as  if  bullets  were  humming  over  our  heads.  In  a 
ent  something  rapped  me  sharply  on  the  forehead,  then  upon 
eck,  and  immediately  I  felt  an  indefinite  number  of  sharp  wiry 
s  in  active  motion,  as  if  their  owner  were  bent  on  pushing  his 
orations  farther.  I  seized  him,  and  dropped  him  into  the  fire, 
party  speedily  broke  up,  and  we  adjourned  to  our  respective 
,  where,  closing  the  opening  fast,  we  hoped  to  be  exempt 
invasion.  But  all  precaution  was  fruitless.  The  dorbugs  hum- 
through  the  tent,  and  marched  over  our  faces  until  day-light ; 
n,  opening  our  blankets,  we  found  several  dozen  clinging  there 
the  utmost  tenacity.  The  first  object  that  met  our  eyes  in  the 
ing  was  Delorier,  who  seemed  to  be  apostrophizing  his  frying 


ater,  from  win  ^, 
L'utiem  hein^f  ( 
iter-snake,  ahi 
green,  who  w 
eing  no  stick  j 
m  for  a  time 
severence  was 
emerged  upon 
nd  by  an  extr 
1  floating  stid 
ve  drawn  apaij 
:  of  this  favort 
t  deep ;  we  liftt 
ibly  transparer 
d.  But  our  abl 
I  punctures,  lil 
of  over-grov 
native  mud  ar 
to  beat  a  retre; 

the  bath  whk 
;s,  had  rendered 


I  ». 


'-': 


}\     ! 


•y 


M'i»!i: 


111 

Ml' 


& 

i!i: 


ml 


ii 


32 


The  Oregon  Trail 


pan,  which  he  held  by  the  handle  at  arm's  length.  It  appeared  tli 
he  had  left  it  at  night  by  the  fire ;  and  the  bottom  was  now  co 
ered  with  dorbugs,  firmly  imbedded.  Multitudes  beside,  curious 
parched  and  shriveled,  lay  scattered  among  the  ashes. 

The  horses  and  mules  were  turned  loose  to  feed.  We  had  jt 
taken  our  seats  at  breakfast,  or  rather  reclined  in  the  classic  moc 
when  an  exclamation  from  Henry  Chatillon,  and  a  shout  of  alar 
from  the  captain,  gave  warning  of  some  casualty,  and  lookii 
up,  we  saw  the  whole  band  of  animals,  twenty-three  ia,nur 
'  /*  ber,  filing  off  for  the  settlements,  the  incorrigible  Pontiac  at  the 
A  "head,  jumping  along  wittihobt)led  feet,  at  a  gait  much  more  rap 
than  graceful.  Three  or  four  of  us  ran  to  cut  them  off,  dashi: 
as  best  we  might  through  the  tall  grass,  which  was  glittering  w 
myriads  of  dewdrops.  After  a  race  of  a  mile  or  more,  Shaw  caug: 
a  horse.  Tying  the  trail-rope  by  way  of  bridle  round  the  anima' 
jaw,  and  leaping  upon  his  back,  he  got  in  advance  of  the  remai' 
ing  fugitives,  while  we,  soon  bringing  them  together,  drove  the: 
in  a  crowd  up  to  the  tents,  where  each  man  caught  and  saddle 
his  own.  Then  we  heard  lamentations  and  curses;  for  half  tl 
horses  had  broke  their  hobbles,  and  many  were  seriously  galle 
by  attempting  to  run  in  fetters. 

It  was  late  that  morning  before  we  were  on  the  march ;  and  ear! 
in  the  afternoon  we  were  compelled  to  encamp,  for  a  thunder-gu; 
came  up  and  suddenly  enveloped  us  in  whirling  sheets  of  rai: 
With  much  ado,  we  pitched  our  tents  amid  the  tempest,  and  a 
night  long  the  thunder  bellowed  and  growled  over  our  heads.  I; 
the  morning,  light  peaceful  showers  succeeded  the  cataracts  o 
rain,  that  had  been  drenching  us  through  the  canvas  of  our  tenti 
About  noon,  when  there  were  some  treacherous  indications  c 
fair  weather,  we  got  in  motion  again. 

Not  a  breath  of  air  stirred  over  the  free  and  open  prairie ;  th 
clouds  were  like  light  piles  of  cotton ;  and  where  the  blue  sky  wi 
visible,  it  wore  a  hazy  and  languid  aspect.  The  sun  beat  down  upo: 
us  with  a  sultry  penetrating  heat  almost  insupportable,  and  as  on: 
party  crept  slowly  along  over  the  interminable  level,  the  horsei 
hung  their  heads  as  they  waded  fetlock  deep  through  the  mud,  anc 
the  men  slouched  into  the  easiest  position  upon  the  saddle.  At  last 
toward  evening,  the  old  familiar  black  heads  of  thunderclouds  rost 
fast  above  the  horizon,  and  the  same  deep  muttering  of  distan; 


/ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


33 


ider  that  had  become  the  ordinary  accompaniment  of  our  after- 
l's  journey  began  to  roll  hoarsely  over  the  prairie.  Only  a  few 

lutes  elapsed  before  the  whole  sky  was  densely  shrouded,  and 

Iprairie  and  some  clusters  of  woods  in  front  assumed  a  purple 
beneath  the  inky  shadows.  Suddenly  from  the  densest  fold 

the  cloud  the  flash  leaped  out,  quivering  again  and  again  down 
le  edge  of  the  prairie ;  and  at  the  same  instant  came  the  sharp 
5t  and  the  long  rolling  peal  of  the  thunder.  A  cool  wind,  filled 
the  smell  of  rain,  just  then  overtook  us,  leveling  the  tall  grass 

the  side  of  the  path. 

(Come  on ;  we  must  ride  for  it !"  shouted  Shaw,  rushing  past  at 
speed,  his  led  horse  snorting  at  his  side.  The  whole  party  broke 
full  gallop,  and  made  for  the  trees  in  front.  Passing  these,  we 
id  beyond  them  a  meadow  which  they  half  inclosed.  We  rode 
-mell  upon  the  ground,  leaped  from  horseback,  tore  off  our 
lies;  and  in  a  moment  each  man  was  kneeling  at  his  horse's 
The  hobbles  were  adjusted,  and  the  animals  turned  loose; 
I,  as  the  wagons  came  wheeling  rapidly  to  the  spot,  we  seized 
the  tent-poles,  and  just  as  the  storm  broke,  we  were  prepared 

kceive  it.  It  came  upon  us  almost  with  the  darkness  of  night ; 
trees,  which  were  close  at  hand,  were  completely  shrouded  by 
I  roaring  torrents  of  rain. 

^e  were  sitting  in  the  tent,  when  Delorier,  with  his  broad  felt 
[hanging  about  his  ears,  and  his  shoulders  glistening  with  rain, 
ist  in  his  head. 

\V0ule2-v0us  du  souper,  tout  de  suite?  I  can  make  a  fire,  sous 

\harette — I  b'lieve  so — I  try." 

[Never  mind  supper,  man ;  come  in  out  of  the  rain." 
)elorier  accordingly  crouched   in  the   entrance,   for  modesty 
ild  not  permit  him  to  intrude  farther. 

)ur  tent  was  none  of  the  best  defense  against  such  a  cataract, 
rain  could  not  enter  bodily,  but  it  beat  through  the  canvas  in 
le  drizzle,  that  wetted  us  just  as  effectively.  We  sat  upon  our 
lies  with  faces  of  the  utmost  surliness,  while  the  water  dropped 
the  vizors  of  our  caps,  and  trickled  down  our  cheeks.  My 

^-rubber  cloak  conducted  twenty  little  rapid  streamlets  to  the 
ind ;  and  Shaw's  blanket-coat  was  saturated  like  a  sponge.  But 
It  most  concerned  us  was  the  sight  of  several  puddles  of  water 

(idl>  accumulating ;  one  in  particular,  that  was  gathering  around 


ii'.  I 
I" 

1! ' 


I 


f    ! 


■I 


"I 


m 


m 


m 


^/ 


34 


The  Orecon  Trail 


the  tcnt-polc.  thrcatcncci  to  ovrsptrad  the  whole  area  withir,  t 
tent,  lioUlitij;:  iov\\\  Intt  an  iniiifTerent  promise  of  a  comforlal 
night's  rest.  Toward  sunset,  however,  the  storm  eeaserl  as  sn 
denly  as  it  bei^an.  A  bright  streak  of  clear  red  sky  appeared  .iIh 
the  western  verfi;e  of  the  prairie,  the  horizontal  niys  of  the  siiikr 
sun  stre.imed  throuql]  it  and  glittered  in  a  thousand  prismatic  coli 
upon  the  dripping  gn>ves  and  the  ]>rostrate  i;rn55.  The  pools 
the  tent  dwindled  and  sunk  into  the  saturated  soil. 

PfUt  all  our  hopes  were  delusive.  .Scarcely  had  night  set  in.  \\h 
the  tunmlt  broke  forth  anew.  'Khe  tlumder  here  is  not  like  the  lai 
thunder  of  the  Atlantic  coast.  Ihirsting  with  a  terrilic  crash  diin; 
alnive  our  heads,  it  ro.ued  over  the  boundless  waste  of  praii 
seeming  to  roll  annind  the  whole  circle  of  the  lirmament  wiili 
peculiar  and  awful  reverberatioti.  The  lightning  tlashed  all  nij;!^ 
playing  witn  its  liviil  glare  ufxin  the  neighboring  trees,  reve.ilit 
the  vast  expanse  of  the  plain,  and  then  leaving  us  shut  in  as  In 
pal|\ible  wall  of  darktiess. 

It  did  not  distmb  us  nuich.  Now  and  then  a  peal  awakened  t 
and  made  us  conscious  of  the  electric  battle  that  was  raging,  n; 
of  the  tloods  that  dashed  U])on  the  stanch  canvas  over  our  hvw. 
\Vc  lay  u\xn\  india-rubbi  r  cloths,  placed  between  our  blankets  a; 
the  soil.  b\)r  a  while  they  excluded  the  water  to  admiration ;  h 
when  at  length  it  accunnilated  and  lH?gan  to  run  over  the  edci 
they  served  equally  well  to  retain  it,  so  that  toward  the  end 
the  night  we  were  unconsciously  reposing  in  small  pools  of  rar 

On  tinally  awaking  in  the  morning  the  prospect  was  not  a  cIut 
ful  one.  The  rain  no  longer  |xiured  in  torrents  •  but  it  patten 
with  a  quiet  pertinacity  upon  the  strainetl  and  saturated  canva 
We  disengaged  ourselves  from  our  blankets,  every  fiber  of  win; 
glistened  with  little  boadlike  drops  of  water,  and  looked  out 
vain  hope  of  discovering  some  token  of  fair  weather.  The  cknic 
in  lead-colored  volumes,  rested  uixtn  the  dismal  verge  of 
prairie,  or  hung  sluggishly  overhead,  while  the  earth  wore  an ;. 
pect  no  more  attractive  than  the  her.%^ens.  exhibiting  nothing  \\ 
pools  of  water,  grass  beaten  down,  and  mud  well  trampled  by  o: 
mules  r.nd  horses.  Our  com^>anions'  tent,  with  an  air  of  fork: 
and  passive  misery,  and  their  wagons  in  like  manner,  drenck 
and  woe-begone,  stood  not  far  off.  The  captain  was  just  retunii: 
from  his  morning's  inspection  of  the  horses.  He  stalked  throuc 


TitE  (jRK(ioN  Tram, 


35 


|e  mist  .ind  rain,  with  his  plaid  around  his  shoulders ;  his  httlc 

)r.  (Ii«i>;y  as  an  antiquarian  rrhc.  prrijccting  from  hcncath  hi» 
[iistachc.  and  his  hrothrr  Jack  at  his  heels. 

'•(  iood-mornitig,  captain." 

•'(  Jodd-morning  io  y^mTF  honors,"  said  the  captain,  affecting  the 
[ihcrnian  accent;  hitt  at  that  instant,  as  he  sto(»p:(l  to  enter  the 

It,  he  tripped  upon  the  cords  at  the  entrance,  and  pitched  for- 

:.d  aj^ainst  the  guns  which  were  strapped  around  the  pole  in  the 
inter. 

"You  are  nice  men,  you  are !"  said  he,  after  an  ejaculation  not 

:essary  to  he  recorded,  "to  set  a  man-trap  he  fore  your  door 
^ery  morning  to  catch  your  visitors." 

Then  he  sat  down  u|)on  Henry  Chatillon's  saddle.  We  tossed  a 

;ce  of  hufTalo  rohe  to  Jack,  who  was  l(K)king  ahout  in  some  em- 
irnissment.  lie  si)rea(l  it  on  the  ground,  and  took  his  seat,  with 

itolid  countenance,  at  his  hrother's  side. 

!*'l'"xhilarating  weather,  captain!" 

["Oh,  delightful,   delightful!"   replied  the   captain.   "I   knew   it 

Hild  he  so ;  so  much  for  starting  yesterday  at  noon !  I  knew  how 
[would  turn  out ;  and  I  said  so  at  the  time." 
I" You  said  just  the  contrary  to  us.  We  were  in  no  hurry,  and 
ily  moved  hecause  you  insisted  on  it." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  captain,  taking  his  pipe  from  his  mouth 
Ith  an  air  of  extreme  gravity,  "it  was  no  plan  of  mine.  There 
la  man  among  us  who  is  determined  to  have  everytliing  his  own 

ly.  You  may  express  your  opinion  ;  but  don't  expect  him  to  listen. 

m  may  be  as  reasonable  as  you  like:  oh,  it  all  goes  for  nothing! 

lat  man  is  resolved  to  rule  the  roost  and  he'll  set  his  face  against 
ly  plan  that  he  didn't  think  of  himself." 

I  The  captain  pufTed  for  a  while  at  his  pipe,  as  if  meditating  upon 
grievances  ;  then  he  began  again  : 

"lH:)r  twenty  years  I  have  been  in  the  British  army;  and  in  all 

It  time  I  never  had  half  so  much  dissension,  and  quarreling,  and 
)nsense,  as  since  I  have  been  on  this  cursed  prairie.  He's  the 

)st  uncomfortable  man  I  ever  met." 

"Yes,"  said  Jack ;  "and  don't  you  know,  Bill,  now  he  drank  up 
the  cotfee  last  night,  and  put  the  rest  by  for  himself  till  the 

)rnmg ! 

"He  pretends  to  know  everything,"  resumed  the  captain;  "no- 


^ 


!     '•' 


.4r' 


i  yl 

'I 


36 


TUK    OKI.liON    TrAU. 


I  i 


^1^^ 


body  itmsl  jjivo  onlors  Init  \\v\  H's,  oh!  wc  tiuist  do  this;  and,  (tli 
wo  must  do  llial  ;  aiwl  ihr  tctit  nuisl  he  piuhrd  here,  and  thr  homr 
imist  he  iMiKelod  their;  ior  nol»ody  kn«>\vs  as  well  as  he  <loes." 

We  were  a  htile  snrptised  al  this  (hselostiie  of  doinestie  dn 
sciisioiis  aiuiMii;  o\n  alh<\'^.  h»i  tlu>U}^l»  we  knew  of  their  exisletur 
wo  wore  not  awaio  of  their  extent.  The  peiseetited  eaptain  seciii 
in,C  wliolly  at  a  loss  as  to  the  eonrse  of  enndnet  that  he  sluml 
putsuo.  we  reconunendod  hitn  to  adopt  prompt  and  oner^etie  nun^  | 
lues;  hnt  all  his  niilitaiy  ('xiHMienee  had  failed  to  toaeh  hitn  tli 
iuvlisponsahle  lesson  (o  he  "hard,"  when  the  einiM^eney  reipiires  it 

"Vov  twenty  years."  he  ropeateil.  "I  have  heen  in  the  Ihilisl 
army,  and  in  th.»t  titno  I  liave  heen  intimately  aeipiainted  with  sotiif 
two  hinuhe<l  otVioers,  yi>ung  atul  old,  .and  I  never  yet  (inarrcin 
with  any  man.  Oh,  'anything;  for  a  <jniet  life!'  that's  my  maxim 

We  intimated  that  the  prairie  was  hardly  the  place  to  enjov, 
quiet  life,  hnl  that,  in  the  present  circumstances,  the  host  tliiiij; 
he  Otnild  ^\o  tt)warvl  socurinj;  his  wishe<l-for  tratujuillity,  was  ini 
uiodiately  to  put  a  peritul  to  the  nuis.ince  that  <listurhed  it.  i^ii; 
ac^HU  the  captains  easy  gvHul-uaturo  recoiled  from  the  task.  Tlif 
son)ewhat  vii;t>rous  measures  necessary  ti)  j;ain  the  viesirod  resiil 
wore  utterly  repupiant  to  him  ;  Ito  ]ireforred  to  pocket  liis  ^v\c\-  | 
ancos.  still  retainiuij  the  privilege  of  j^rumhlini;  ahout  thorn.  "i\ 
anything;  tor  a  ijuiot  lifo!"  ho  said  again,  circling  hack  to  hi; 
fawnito  maxim. 

Hut  to  glance  at  the  previous  history  of  our  transatlantic  con   | 
federates.   The  captaiti  havt  sold  his  commission,  and  was  living  ir  | 
Ivichelor  ease  and  dignity  in  his  j>aterual  halls,  near  Duhlin.  llf 
hunted,  tished,  rode  steeple-chases,  ran  races,  and  talked  of  hi;   | 
former  exploits,  lie  was  surrouiuled  with  the  trophies  of  his  nn; 
and  g:im :  the  walls  were  plentifully  garnished,  he  told  us,  will:  | 
moose-horTis   and   deer-horns,   hoar-skins,   and    fox-tails ;   for  the 
captain's   douhle-harreled   ritle   had   seen   service   in   Canada  aiic  „ 
Jamaica :  he  had  killed  salmon  in  Nova  Scotia,  and  trout,  by  hi; 
own  account,  in  all  the  streams  of  the  three  kingdoms.  Hut  in  ai;  | 
evil  hour  a  seductive  stranger  came  from  lAindon ;  no  less  a  persor  ^ 
than  R..  who,  among  other  multitudinous  wanderings,  had  on«  | 
been  upon  the  western  prairies,  and  naturally  enough  was  anxicnij  | 
to  visit  them  again.  The  captain's  iniagin-.tion  was  inflamed  by  the 
pictures  of  a  hunter's  paradise  that  his  guest  held  forth;  he  con- 


TlTK    r)|<K(;(>Nf    TkATL 


17 


iivrfl  ;m  afjiliilinn  In  ;ul<l  to  liis  othrr  fropliirs  tlir  horns  fif  a 
llT.iIn.  and  tlir  claws  of  a  j{ri//ly  licar ;  so  lie  arul  \<.  strink  a 
UMic  to  travel  in  i-oni|>any.  jack  followr»|  Iiis  lirrjtlicr,  as  a  tnattrr 
conrsc.  Two  weeks  «»n  hoard  the  Atlantic  steamer  hron^ht  them 
I'.nston;  in  two  weeks  more  of  hard  travelinj^'  they  reacherl  St. 
puis,  from  which  a  ride  of  six  days  carried  then)  to  the  f roTitirr ; 
id  Ikmc  wc  fonml  thefn,  in  ftdl  tide  of  preparatiofi  ff»r  their  jour- 

We  had  heen  thron^liout  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  captain, 

It   Iv..  the  motive  power  of  onr  comj)anions'  hratu  h  of  the  ex- 

jdition,  was  scarcely  known  to  ns.   His  voice,  ifideed,  mij^fit  l)e 

ird  incess.'mtly  ;  hnt  at  camp  he  remained  chiefly  within  ttie  trnt, 

]d  on  the  road  he  <'ither  rode  hy  himself,  or  else  remained  in  close 

piversation  with  his  friend  Wrij^ht,  the  nndeteer.  As  the  captain 

ft  the  tent  that  niorninj^jL  \  ohst-rved  K.  standing  l»y  the  fire,  and   yt 

ivin^^  nothinj;  else  to  do,  T  (reternnneTTto  ascertain,  if  pf)ssihle, 

lat  manner  of  man  he  was.   lie  had  a  hr»ok  nnder  his  arm,  fjut 

jt  at   prescfit  he  was  enj^rossed  in  actively  suj)erintenflin^  the 

;r;itions  of  Sorcl,  the  hnnter,  who  was  cooking  s(mie  corn-hread 

;r  the  coals   for  hreakfast.    K.   was  a  well-formed  anrl  rather 

)d-k)okinjj^  man,  some  thirty  years  old  ;  considerahly  younger 

\\\  the  captain.   He  wf)re  a  heard  and  mustache  of  the  oakum 

ij)lcxi()n,  and  his  attire  was  alto^^ether  more  elegant  than  one 

linarily  sees  on  the  prairie.  1  Ic  wore  his  cap  on  one  side  of  his 

id  ;  his  checked  shirt,  open   in   front,  was  in  very  neat  order, 

isiderinj^  the  circumstances,  and  his  hlue  pantalorjns,  of  the  John 

111  cut,  might  once  have  fij^ured  in  liond  Street. 

rTurn  over  that  cake,  man !  turn  it  over,  quick !  Don't  you  see 

burning?" 

rit  ain't  half  done,"  growled  Sorel,  in  the  amiahle  tone  of  a 
Ulipcd  hull-dog. 

"It  is.  Turn  it  over,  I  tell  you !" 

Jorel,  a  strong,  sullen-looking  Canadian,  who  from  having  spent 
life  aiuong  the  wildest  and  most  remote  of  the  Indian  trihes, 
imbibed  much  of  their  dark,  vindictive  spirit,  looked  ferociously'/ 
as  if  he  longed  to  leap  upWrTiisl>^wr^^"oirand  throttle  him ;  but 
obeyed  the  order,  coming  from  so  experienced  an  artist. 
"It  was  a  good  idea  of  yours,"  said  I,  seating  myself  on  the 
igue  of  a  wagon,  "to  bring  Indian  meal  with  you." 


f! 


38 


The  Oregon  Trail 


;i»ii' 


ill. 

N   ■ 


i! 


tc^ 


'Yes,  yes,"  said  R.,  "It's  good  bread  for  the  prairie — good  brca 
for  the  prairie.  I  tell  you  that's  burning  again." 

Here  he  stoo])ccl  down,  and  unsheathing  the  silver-mounte 
hunting-knife  in  his  belt,  began  to  perform  the  part  of  cook  bin 
self;  at  the  same  time  requesting  me  to  hold  for  a  moment  tb 
book  under  his  arm,  which  interfered  with  the  exercise  of  thes^ 
imix)rtant  functions.  I  opened  it;  it  was  "Macaulay's  Lays";  ar:| 
I  made  some  remark,  expressing  my  admiration  of  the  work. 

"Yes.  yes ;  a  pretty  good  thing.  Macaulay  can  do  better  tha; 
that  though.  I  know  him  very  well.  I  have  traveled  with  bin. 
Where  was  it  we  first  met — at  Damascus?  No,  no;  it  was  in  Italy 

"So,"  said  I,  "you  have  been  over  the  same  ground  with  voir  | 
countryman,  the  author  of  'Eothen'  ?  There  has  been  some  discuK 
sion  in  America  as  to  who  he  is.  I  have  heard  Milne's  name  nici, 
tioned."  | 

"Milne's  ?  Oh,  no,  no,  no ;  not  at  all.  It  was  Kinglake ;  Kine  | 
lake's  the  man.  I  know  him  very  well ;  that  is,  I  have  seen  him. 

Here  Jack  C,  who  stood  by,  interposed  a  remark  (a  thing  no: 
common  with  him),  observing  that  he  thought  the  weather  wouk 
become  fair  before  twelve  o'clock. 

"It's  going  to  rain  all  day,"  said  R.,  "and  clear  up  in  the  middk 
of  the  night." 

Just  then  the  clouds  began  to  dissipate  in  a  very  unequivoca 
manner ;  but  Jack,  not  caring  to  defend  his  point  against  so  an 
thoritative  a  declaration,  walked  away  whistling,  and  we  resumec 
our  conversation. 

"Borrow,  the  author  of  'The  Bible  in  Spain,'  I  presume  yot; 
know  him,  too?" 

"Oh,  certainly;  I  know  all  those  men.  By  the  way,  they  told  niel 
that  one  of  your  American  writers.  Judge  Story,  had  died  latel}  | 
I  edited  some  of  his  works  in  London  ;  not  without  faults,  though.  | 

Here  followed  an  erudite  commentary  on  certain  points  of  la>v  | 
in  which  he  particularly  animadverted  on  the  errors  into  whid 
he  considered  that  the  judge  had  been  betrayed.  At  length,  having | 
touched  successively  on  an  infinite  variety  of  topics,  I  found  thai" 
I  had  the  happiness  of  discovering  a  man  equally  competent  tf| 
einighten  me  upon  them  all,  equally  an  authority  on  matters  oij 
science  or  literature,  philosophy  or  fashion.  The  part  I  bore  irij 
the  conversation  was  by  no  means  a  prominent  one;  it  was  onl)1 


The  Oregon  Trail 


39 


in  the  middli 


presume  yot 


kcessary  to  set  him  going,  and  when  he  had  run  long  enough 

jpon  one  topic,  to  divert  him  to  another  and  lead  him  on  to  pour 

fut  his  heaps  of  treasure  in  succession. 

"What  has  that  fellow  been  saying  to  you?"  said  Shaw,  as  I 
jturncd  to  the  tent.  "I  have  heard  nothing  but  his  talking  for 
10  last  half-hour." 

R.  had  none  of  the  peculiar  traits  of  the  ordinary  "British 
lob" ;  his  absurdities  were  all  his  own,  belonging  to  nb  particular 
Ition  or  clime.  He  was  possessed  with  an  active  devil  that  had 

(riven  him  over  land  and  sea,  to  no  great  purpose,  as  it  seemed; 
)r  although  he  had  the  usual  complement  of  eyes  and  ears,  the 

[venues  between  these  organs  and  his  brain  appeared  remarkably 
irrow  and  untrodden.  His  energy  was  much  more  conspicuous 
lan  his  wisdom ;  but  his  predominant  characteristic  was  a  mj 
Uiimous  ambition  to  exercise  on  all  occasions  an  awfyLxuIe  and 
iprcmacy,  and  This  proper[§i!y  equally  displayed  itself,  as  the 
jader  will  have  observed,  whether  the  matter  in  question  was  the 
iking  of  a  hoe-cake  or  a  point  of  international  law.  V/hen  such 

[iverse  elements  as  he  and  the  easy-tempered  captain  came  in  con- 

ict,  no  wonder  some  commotion  ensued;  R.  rode  rough-shod, 

["om  morning  till  night,  over  his  military  ally. 

At  noon  the  sky  was  clear  and  we  set  out,  trailing  through  mud 

id  slime  six  inches  deep.  That  night  we  were  spared  the  customary 

ifliction  of  the  shower  bath. 

On  the  next  afternoon  we  were  moving  slowly  along,  not  far 
[•om  a  patch  of  woods  which  lay  on  the  right.  Jack  C.  rode  a  little 
advance ; 

The  livelong  day  he  had  not  spoke; 

pen  suddenly  he  faced  about,  pointed  to  the  woods,  and  roared 
It  to  his  brother : 


y 


'O  Bill !  here's  a 


cojj;.! 


V 


The  captain  instantly  galloped  forward,  and  he  and  Jack  made 
vain  attempt  to  capture  the  prize;  but  the  cow,  with  a  well- 
rounded  distrust  of  their  intentions,  took  refuge  among  the  trees, 
joined  them,  and  they  soon  drove  her  out.  We  watched  their 
)lutions  &s  they  galloped  around  here,  trying  in  vain  to  noose 
;r  with  their  trail-ropes,  which  they  had  converted  miQjbriettes    )f 
)r  the  occasion.  At  length  they  resorted  to  milder  measures^  and  /* 


i! 


\\ 

A 

t 


» ; 


!       ! 


II 


40 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I  i 


<  I' 


] 

1 

1 

;!' 

"i 
i 

Hi 

i 

\ 


the  cow  was  driven  along  with  the  party.  Soon  after  the  usual 
thunderstorm  came  up,  the  wind  blowing  with  such  fury  that  the 
streams  of  rain  flew  almost  horizontally  along  the  prairie,  roarinc; 
like  a  cataract.  The  horses  turned  tail  to  the  storm,  and  stood  | 
hanging  their  heads,  bearing  the  infliction  with  an  air  of  meekness 
and  resignation ;  while  wo  drew  our  heads  between  our  shoulders, 
and  crouched  forward,  so  as  to  make  our  backs  serve  as  a  pent- 
house for  the  rest  of  our  persons.  Meanwhile  the  cow,  taking  ad- 
vantage of  the  tumult,  ran  off,  to  the  great  discomfiture  of  the  caj)- 
tain,  who  seemed  to  consider  her  as  his  own  especial  prize,  since 
she  had  been  discovered  by  Jack.  In  defiance  of  the  storm,  he 
pulled  his  cap  tight  over  uis  brows,  jerked  a  huge  buffalo  pistol 
from  his  holster,  and  set  out  at  full  speed  after  her.  This  was  the 
last  we  saw  of  them  for  some  time,  the  mist  and  rain  making  an 
impenetrable  veil ;  but  at  length  we  heard  the  captain's  shout,  and 
saw  him  looming  through  the  tempest,  the  picture  of  a  Hibernian 
cavalier,  with  his  cocked  pistol  held  aloft  for  safety's  sake,  and  a 
countenance  of  anxiety  and  excitement.  The  cow  trotted  before 
him,  but  exhibited  evident  signs  of  an  intention  to  run  off  again, 
and  the  captain  was  roaring  to  us  to  head  her.  But  the  rain  had  got 
in  behind  our  coat  collars,  and  was  traveling  over  our  necks  in 
numerous  little  streamlets,  and  being  afraid  to  move  our  heads,  for 
fear  of  admitting  more,  we  sat  stiff  and  immovable,  looking  at  the 
captain  askance,  and  laughing  at  his  frantic  movements.  At  last 
the  cow  made  a  sudden  plunge  and  ran  off;  the  captain  grasped 
his  pistol  firmly,  spurred  his  horse,  and  galloped  after,  with  evi- 
dent designs  of  mischief.  In  a  moment  we  heard  the  faint  report, 
deadened  by  the  rain,  and  then  the  conqueror  and  his  victim  re- 
appeared, the  latter  shot  through  the  body,  anj  quite  helpless.  Not 
long  after  the  storm  moderated  and  we  advanced  again.  The  cow 
walked  painfully  along  under  the  charge  of  Jack,  to  whom  the 
captain  had  committed  her,  while  he  himself  rode  forward  in  his 
old  capacity  of  vedette.  We  were  approaching  a  long  line  of  trees, 
that  followed  a  stream  stretching  across  our  path,  far  in  front, 
when  we  beheld  the  vedette  galloping  toward  us,  apparently  much 
excited,  but  with  a  broad  grin  on  his  face. 

"Let  that  cow  drop  behind!"  he  shouted  to  us;  "here's  her 
owners!"  — ~— • 

And  in  fact,  as  we  approached  the  line  of  trees,  a  large  white 


The  Oregon  Trail 


41 


object,  like  a  tent,  was  visible  behind  them.  On  approaching,  how- 
ever, we  found,  instead  of  the  expected  Mormon  camp,  nothing 
but  the  lonely  prairie,  and  a  large  white  rock  standing  by  the  path.  5 
The  cow  therefore  resumed  her   place   in  our  procession.    She  \ 
walked  on  until  we  encamped,  when  R.  firmly  approaching  with 
his  enormous  English  double-barreled  rifle,  calmly  and  deliberately 
took  aim  at  her  heart,  and  discharged  into  it  first  one  bullet  and 
ihen  the  other.   She  was  then  butchered  on  the  most  approved 
])rinciples  of  woodcraft,  and  furnished  a  very  welcome  item  to  our  / 
somewhat  limited  bill  of  fare.  '-— " 

In  a  day  or  two  more  we  reached  the  river  called  the  "Big  Blue." 
By  titles  equally  elegant,  almost  all  the  streams  of  this  region  are 
designated.  We  had  struggled  through  ditches  and  little  brooks  all 
that  morning;  but  on  traversing  the  dense  woods  that  lined  the 
banks  of  the  Blue,  we  found  more  formidable  difficulties  awaited 
us,  for  the  stream,  swollen  by  the  rains,  was  wide,  deep,  and  rapid. 

No  sooner  were  we  on  the  spot  than  R.  had  flung  off  his  clothes, 
and  was  swimming  across,  or  splashing  through  the  shallows,  with 
the  end  of  a  rope  between  his  teeth.  We  all  looked  on  in  admira- 
tion, wondering  what  might  be  the  design  of  this  energetic  prepara- 
tion ;  but  soon  we  heard  him  shouting :  "Give  that  rope  a  turn  round 
that  stump !  You,  Sorel :  do  you  hear  ?  Look  sharp  now,  Boisverd ! 
Come  over  to  this  side,  some  of  you,  and  help  me!"  The  men  to 
whom  these  orders  were  directed  paid  not  the  least  attention  to 
them,  though  they  were  poured  out  without  pause  or  intermission. 
Henry  Chatillon  directed  the  work,  and  it  proceeded  quietly  and 
rapidly.  R.'s  sharp  prattling  voice  might  have  been  heard  inces-T*^ 
santly ;  and  he  was  leaping  about  with  the  utmost  activity,  multi- 
plying himself,  after  the  manner  of  great  commanders,  as  if  his 
universal  presence  and  supervision  were  of  the  last  necessity.  His 
commands  were  rather  amusingly  '.nconsistent ;  for  when  he  saw 
that  the  men  would  not  do  as  he  told  them,  he  wisely  accommo- 
dated himself  to  circumstances,  and  with  the  utmost  vehemence 
ordered  them  to  do  precisely  that  which  they  were  at  the  time  en- 
i^aged  upon,  no  doubt  recollecting  the  story  of  Mahomet  and  the 
refractory  mountain.  Shaw  smiled  significantly ;  R.  observed  it, 
and,  approaching  with  a  countenance  of  lofty  indignation,  began 
to  vapor  a  little,  but  was  instantly  reduced  to  silence. 

The  raft  was  at  length  complete.  We  piled  our  goods  upon  it, 


•    4'f 


\\\ 


jit 


I 


42 


The  Oregon  Trail 


i! 


I  if 


1 

( 

i 

1 1 

li 

.' 

ill! 

Li!!, 
1 1 


with  the  exception  of  our  guns,  which  each  man  chose  to  retain 
in  his  own  keeping.  Sorel,  Boisverd,  Wright  and  Delorier  took 
their  stations  at  the  four  corners,  to  hold  it  together,  and  swim 
across  with  it ;  and  in  a  moment  more,  all  our  earthly  possessions 
were  floating  on  the  turbid  waters  of  the  Big  Blue.  We  sat  en  the 
bank,  anxiously  watching  the  result,  until  we  saw  the  ra^t  safe 
landed  in  a  little  cove  far  down  on  the  opposite  bank.  Thi  empty 
wagons  were  easily  passed  across;  and  then  each  man  moimting  a 
horse,  we  rode  through  the  stream,  the  stray  animals  following  of 
their  own  accord. 


Chapter  VI 
THE  PLATTE  AND  THE  DESERT 

We  were  now  arrived  at  the  close  of  our  solitary  journeyings 
along  the  St.  Joseph's  trail.  On  the  evening  of  the  23d  of  May 
we  encamped  near  its  junction  with  the  old  legitimate  trail  of  the 
Oregon  emigrants.  We  had  ridden  long  that  afternoon,  trying  in 
vain  to  find  wood  and  water,  until  at  length  we  saw  the  sunset 
sky  reflected  from  a  pool  encircled  by  bushes  and  a  rock  or  two. 
The  water  lay  in  the  bottom  of  a  hollow,  the  smooth  prairie  grace- 
fully rising  in  oceanlike  swells  on  every  side.  We  pitched  our  tents 
by  it;  not  however  before  the  keen  eye  of  Henry  Chatillon  had 
discerned  some  unusual  object  upon  the  faintly-defined  outline  of 
the  distant  swell.  But  in  the  moist,  hazy  atmosphere  of  the  eve- 
ning, nothing  could  be  clearly  distinguished.  As  we  lay  around  the 
fire  after  supper,  a  low  and  distant  sound,  strange  enough  amid 
the  loneliness  of  the  prairie,  reached  our  ears — peals  of  laughter, 
and  the  faint  voices  of  men  and  women.  For  eight  days  we  had 
not  encountered  a  human  being,  and  this  singular  warning  of  their 
vicinity  had  an  effect  extremely  wild  and  impressive. 

About  dark  a  sallow-faced  fellow  descended  the  hill  on  horse- 
back, and  splashing  through  the  pool  rode  up  to  the  tents.  He  was 
enveloped  in  a  huge  cloak,  and  his  broad  felt  hat  was  weeping 
about  his  ears  with  the  drizzling  moisture  of  the  evening.  Another 
followed,  a  stout,  square-built,  intelligent-looking  man,  who  an- 


111 


The  Oregon  Trail 


43 


nounced  himself  as  leader  of  an  emigrant  party  encamped  a  mile 
in  advance  of  us.  About  twenty  wagons,  he  said,  were  with  him ; 
the  rest  of  his  party  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rig  Blue,  wait- 
ing for  a  woman  who  was  in  the  pains  of  child-birth,  and  quar- 
reling meanwhile  among  themselves. 

These  were  the  first  emigrants  that  we  had  overtaken,  altJiough 
we  had  found  abundant  and  melancholy  traces  of  their  progress 
throughout  the  whole  course  of  the  journey.  Sometimes  we  passed 
the  grave  of  one  who  had  sickened  and  died  on  the  way.  The  earth 
was  usually  torn  up,  and  covered  thickly  with  wolf -tracks.  Some 
had  escaped  this  violation.  One  morning  a  piece  of  plank,  standing 
upright  on  the  summit  of  a  grassy  hill,  attracted  our  notice,  and 
riding  up  to  it  we  found  the  following  words  very  roughly  traced 
upon  it,  apparently  by  a  red-hot  piece  of  iron: 


^ 


MARY  ELLIS 

DIED  MAY  7TH,    1845. 

Aged  two  months. 

Such  tokens  were  of  common  occurrence,  nothing  could  speak 
more  for  the  hardihood,  or  rather  infatuation,  of  the  adventurers, 
or  the  sufferings^  that  await'them  upoft-ltie.  journey.   .-•'-- — ^v 

We  were  late  in  breaking  up  our  camp  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, and  scarcely  had  we  ridden  a  mile  when  we  saw,  far  in  ad- 
vance of  us,  drawn  against  the  horizon,  a  line  of  objects  stretching 
at  regular  intervals  along  the  level  edge  of  the  prairie.  An  inter- 
vening swell  soon  hid  them  from  sight,  until,  ascending  it  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  after,  we  saw  close  before  us  the  emigrant  caravan, 
with  it's  heavy  white  wagons  creeping  on  in  their  slow  procession, 
and  a  large  drove  of  cattle  following  behind.  Half  a  dozen  yellow- 
visaged  Missourians,  mounted  on  horseback,  were  cursing  and 
shouting  among  them ;  their  lank  angular  proportions  enveloped  in 
brown  homespun,  evidently  cut  and  adjusted  by  the  hands  of  a 
domestic  female  tailor.  As  we  approached,  they  greeted  us  with  the 
polished  salutation:  "How  are  ye,  boys?  Are  ye  for  Oregon  or 
California  ?" 

As  we  pushed  rapidly  past  the  wagons,  children's  faces  were 
thrust  out  from  the  white  coverings  to  look  at  us ;  while  the  care- 


u 


1 


.  '    t: 

111 


44 


The  Oregon  Trail 


Ir  I' 


I  •  I 


riil 


w 


worn,  thin  leaturcd  matron,  or  the  buxom  girl,  seated  in  front, 
susiK'nded  the  knitting  on  which  most  of  them  were  engaged  to 
stare  at  us  with  wondering  curiosity.  By  the  side  of  each  wagon 
stalked  the  proprietor,  urging  on  his  patient  oxen,  who  shouldered 
heavily  along,  inch  by  inch,  on  their  interminable  journey.  It  was 
easy  to  see  that  fear  and  dissension  prevailed  among  them  ;  some  of 
the  men — but  these,  with  one  exception,  were  bachelors — looked 
wistfully  upon  us  as  we  rode  lightly  and  swiftly  past,  and  then 
impatiently  at  their  own  lumbering  wagons  and  heavy-gaited  oxen. 
Others  were  unwilling  to  advance  at  all  until  the  party  they  had 
left  behind  should  have  rejoined  them.  Many  were  murmuring 
against  the  leader  they  had  chosen,  and  wished  to  depose  him ; 
and  this  discontent  was  fermented  by  some  ambitious  spirits,  who 
had  hopes  of  succeeding  in  his  place.  The  women  were  divided  be- 
tween regrets  for  the  homes  they  had  left  and  apprehension  of 
the  deserts  and  the  savages  before  them. 

We  soon  left  them  far  behind,  and  fondly  hoped  that  we  had 
taken  a  final  leave ;  but  unluckily  our  companions'  wagon  stuck  so 
long  in  a  deep  muddy  ditch  that,  before  it  was  extricated,  the  van 
of  the  emigrant  caravan  appeared  again,  descending  a  ridge  close 
at  hand.  Wagon  after  wagon  plunged  through  the  mud ;  and  as  it 
was  nearly  noon,  and  the  place  promised  shade  and  water,  we  saw 
with  much  gratification  that  they  were  resolved  to  encamp.  Soon 
the  wagons  were  wheeled  into  a  circle;  the  cattle  were  grazing 
over  the  meadow,  and  the  men  with  sour,  sullen  faces,  were  look- 
ing about  for  wood  and  water.  They  seemed  to  meet  with  but  in- 
different success.  As  we  left  the  ground,  I  saw  a  tall  slouching 
fellow  with  the  nasal  accent  of  "down  east,"  contemplating  the 
contents  of  his  tin  cup,  which  he  had  just  filled  with  water. 

"Look  here,  you,"  he  said;  "it's  chock  full  of  animals!" 

The  cup,  as  he  held  it  out,  exhibited  in  fact  an  extraordinary 
variety  and  profusion  of  animal  and  vegetable  life. 

Riding  up  the  little  hill  and  looking  back  on  the  meadow,  we 
could  easily  see  that  all  was  not  right  in  the  camp  of  the  emigrants. 
The  men  were  crowded  together,  and  an  angry  discussion  seemed 
to  be  going  forward.  R.  was  missing  from  his  wonted  place  in  the 
line,  and  the  captain  told  us  that  he  had  remained  behind  to  get  his 
horse  shod  by  a  blacksmith  who  was  attached  to  the  emigrant  party. 
Something  whispered  in  our  ears  that  mischief  was  on  foot;  we 


:|! 


The  Oregon  Trail 


45 


kept  on,  however,  and  coming  soon  to  a  stream  of  tolerable  water, 
we  stop|)ecl  to  rest  and  dine.  Still  the  absentee  lingered  behind.  At 
last,  at  the  distance  of  a  mile,  he  and  his  horse  suddenly  appeared, 
sliarply  defined  ap;ainst  the  sky  on  the  summit  of  a  hill;  and  close 
behind,  a  huge  white  object  rose  slowly  into  view.  ^.,--— "'^ 

"What  is  that  blockhead  bringing  with  him  now  ?"         "        ^     \ 

A  moment  dispelled  the  mystery.  Slowly  and  solemnly  one  behind 
the  other,  four  long  trains  of  oxen  and  four  emigrant  wagons 
rolled  over  the  crest  of  the  declivity  and  gravely  descended,  while 
R.  rode  in  state  in  the  van.  It  seems  that,  during  the  process  of 
shoeing  the  horse,  the  smothered  dissensions  among  the  emigrants 
suddenly  broke  into  open  rupture.  Some  insisted  on  pushing  for- 
ward, some  on  remaining  where  they  were,  and  some  on  going 
back.  Kearsley,  their  captain,  threw  up  his  command  in  disgust. 
"And  now,  boys,"  said  he,  "if  any  of  you  are  for  going  ahead,  just 
you  come  along  with  me." 

Four  wagons,  with  ten  men,  one  woman,  and  one  small  child, 
made  up  the  force  of  the  "c^o-ahead"  faction,  and  R.,  with  his 
usual  proclivity  toward  miscaief,  invited  them  to  join  our  party. y 
Fear  of  the  Indians — for  I  can  conceive  of  no  other  motive — must 
have  induced  him  to  court  so  burdensome  an  alliance.  As  may  well 
be  conceived,  these  repeated  instances  oi  high-handed  dealing 
sufficiently  exasperated  us.  In  this  case,  indeed,  the  men  who  joined 
us  were  all  that  could  be  desired ;  rude  indeed  in  manner,  but  frank, 
manly,  and  intelligent.  To  tell  them  we  could  not  travel  with  them 
was  of  course  out  of  the  question.  I  merely  reminded  Kearsley  that 
if  his  oxen  could  not  keep  up  with  our  mules  he  must  expect  to  be 
left  behind,  as  we  could  not  consent  to  be  further  delayed  on  the 
journey;  but  he  immediately  replied,  that  his  oxen  "should  keep 
up ;  and  if  they  couldn't,  why  he  allowed  that  he'd  find  out  how  to 
make  'em!"  Having  availed  myself  of  what  satisfaction  could  be 
derived  from  giving  R.  to  understand  my  opinion  of  his  conduct, 
I  returned  to  our  side  of  the  camp. 

On  the  next  day,  as  it  chanced,  our  English  companions  broke 
tlie  axle-tree  of  their  wagon,  and  down  came  the  whole  cumbrous 
machine  lumbering  into  the  bed  of  a  brook !  Here  was  a  day's  work 
cut  out  for  us.  Meanwhile,  our  emigrant  associates  kept  on  their 
way,  and  so  vigorously  did  they  urge  forward  their  powerful  oxen 
that,  with  the  broken  axle-tree  and  other  calamities,  it  was  full  a 


M' 


46 


The  Oregon  Trail 


i     •! 


y. 


(  ; 


week  before  we  overtook  them ;  when  at  length  we  discovered  them, 
one  afternoon,  crawling  quietly  along  the  sandy  brink  of  the 
Platte.  But  meanwhile  various  incidents  occurred  to  ourselves. 

It  was  probable  that  at  this  stage  of  our  journey  the  Pawnees 
would  attempt  to  rob  us.  We  began  therefore  to  stand  guard  in 
turn,  dividing  l;he  night  into  three  watches,  and  appointing  two  men 
for  each.  Delorier  and  I  held  guard  together.  We  did  not  march 
with  military  precision  to  and  fro  before  the  tents ;  our  discipline 
was  by  no  means  so  stringent  and  rigid.  We  wrapped  ourselves  in 
our  blankets,  and  sat  down  by  the  fire ;  and  Delorier,  combining 
Jh^s  ^^nary^^nctions  with  his  duties  as  sentinel,  employed  him- 
/^self  in  boiling  the  head  of  an  antelope  for  our  morning's  repast. 
Yet  we  were  m.odels  of  vigilance  in  comparison  with  some  of  the 
party ;  for  the  ordinary  practice  of  the  guard  was  to  establish  him- 
self in  the  most  comfortable  posture  he  could ;  lay  his  rifle  on  the 
ground,  and  enveloping  his  nose  in  the  blanket,  met  tate  on  his 
mistress,  or  whatever  subject  best  nleased  himi.  This  is  all  well 
erough  when  among  Indians  who  do  not  habitually  proceed  fur- 
ther, in  their  hostility  than  robbing  travelers  of  their  horses  and 
mules,  though,  indeed  a  Pawnee's  forbearance  is  not  always  to  be 
trusted ;  but  in  certain  regions  farther  to  the  west,  the  guard  must 
beware  how  he  e?:poses  his  person  to  the  light  of  the  fire,  lest  per- 
chance some  keen-eyed  skulking  marksman  should  let  fly  a  bullet 
or  an  arrow  from  amid  the  darkness. 

Amonj'  various  tales  that  circulated  around  our  camp  fire  was  a 
rather  curious  one,  told  by  Boisverd,  and  not  inappropriate  here. 
Boisverd  was  trapping  with  several  companions  on  the  skir's  of  the 
Blackfoot  country.  The  man  on  guard,  well  knowing  that  it  be- 
hooved him  to  put  forth  his  utmost  precaution,  kept  a'oof  from  the 
firelight,  and  sat  watching  intently  on  all  sides.  At  length  he  was 
aware  of  a  dark,  crouching  figure,  stealing  noiselessly  into  the  circle 
of  the  light.  He  hastily  cocked  his  rifle,  but  the  sh?.rp  click  of  the 
lock  caught  the  ear  of  Blackfoot,  whose  senses  were  all  on  the  alert. 
Raising  his  arrow,  already  fitted  to  the  string,  he  shot  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  sound.  So  sure  was  his  aim  that  he  drove  it  through  the 
throat  of  the  unfortunate  guard,  and  then,  with  a  loud  yell,  bounded 
from  the  camp. 

As  I  looked  at  the  partner  of  my  watch,  puffing  and  blowing 


i! 
I  111, 


The  Oregon  Trail 


47 


over  his  fire,  it  occurred  to  me  thr*  he  might  not  prove  the  most 
efficient  auxiliary  in  time  of  trouble. 

"Delorier,"  said  I,  "would  you  run  away  if  the  Pawnees  should 
fire  at  us  ?" 

"Ah !  oui,  oui,  monsieur !''  he  replied  very  decisively. 

I  did  not  doubt  the  fact,  but  was  a  little  surprised  at  the  frank- 
ness of  the  confession. 

At  this  instant  a  most  whimsical  variety  of  voices — barks,  howls, 
yelps,  and  whines — all  mingled  as  it  were  together,  sounded  from 
the  prairie,  not  far  cflf,  as  if  a  whole  conclave  of  wolves  of  every 
age  and  sex  were  assembled  there.  Delorier  looked  up  from  his 
work  with  a  laugh,  and  began  to  imitate  this  curious  medley  of 
sounds  with  a  most  ludicrous  accuracy.  At  this  they  were  repeated 
with  redoubled  emphasis,  the  musician  being  apparently  indignant 
at  the  successful  efforts  of  a  rival.  They  all  proceeded  from  the 
throat  of  one  little  wolf,  not  larger  than  a  spaniel,  seated  by  him- 
self at  some  distance.  He  was  of  the  species  called  theprairie ^^Q^; V 
a  grim-visaged,  but  harmless  little  brute,  whose  worst  propensity  is  \ 
creeping  among  horses  and  gnawing  the  ropes  of  raw  hide  by  which 
they  are  picketed  around  the  camp.  But  other  beasts  roam  the 
prairies,  far  more  formidable  in  aspect  and  in  character.  These  are 
the  large  white  and  gray  wolves,  whose  deep  howl  we  heard  at 
intervals  from  far  and  near. 

At  last  I  fell  into  a  doze,  and,  awakening  from  it,  found  Delorier 
fast  asleep.  Scandalized  by  this  breach  of  discipline,  I  was  about 
to  stimulate  his  vigilance  by  stirring  him  with  the  stock  of  my  rifle ; 
but  compassion  prevailing,  I  determined  to  let  him  sleep  awhile, 
and  then  to  arouse  him,  and  administer  a  suitable  reproof  for  such 
a  forgetfulness  of  duty.  Now  and  then  I  walked  the  rounds  among  . 
the  silent  horses,  to  see  that  all  was  right.  The  night  was  chill, 
damp,  and  dark,  the  dank  grass  bending  under  the  icy  dewdrops. 
At  the  distance  of  a  rod  or  tvo  the  tents  were  invisible,  and  nothing 
could  be  seen  but  the  obscure  figures  of  the  horses,  deeply  breath- 
ing, and  restlessly  starting  as  they  slept,  or  still  slowly  champing  the 
grass.  Far  off,  beyond  the  black  outline  of  the  prairie,  there  was  a 
ruddy  light,  gradually  increasing,  like  the  glow  of  a  conflagration ; 
until  at  length  the  broad  disk  of  the  moon,  blood-red,  and  vastly 
magnified  by  the  vapors,  rose  slowly  upon  the  darkness,  flecked  by 


llli 


\ 


■  I 


il 


48 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I 


I  m 


m 


yj 


one  or  two  little  clouds,  and  as  the  light  poured  over  the  gloomy 
plain,  a  fierce  and  stem  howl,  close  at  hand,  seemed  to  greet  it  as 
an  unwelcome  intruder.  There  was  something  impressive  and 
awful  in  the  place  and  the  hour ;  for  I  and  the  beasts  were  all  that 
had  consciousness  for  many  a  league  around. 

Some  days  elapsed,  and  brought  us  near  the  Platte.  Two  men  on 
horseback  approached  us  one  morning,  and  we  watched  them  with 
the  curiosity  and  interest  that,  upon  the  solitude  of  the  plains,  such 
an  encounter  always  excites.  They  were  evidently  whites,  from 
their  mode  of  riding,  though,  contrary  to  the  usage  of  that  region, 
neither  of  them  carried  a  rifle. 

"Fools!"  remarked  Henry  Chatillon,  "to  ride  that  way  on  the 
prairie ;  Pawnee  find  them — then  they  catch  it !" 

Pawnee  had  found  them,  and  they  had  come  very  near  * 'catch- 
ing it ;"  indeed,  nothing  saved  them  from  trouble  but  the  approach 
of  our  party.  Shaw  and  I  knew  one  of  them ;  a  man  nzmied  Turner, 
whom  we  had  seen  at  Westport.  He  and  his  companion  belonged  to 
an  emigrant  party  encamped  a  few  miles  in  advance,  and  had  re- 
turned to  look  for  some  stray  oxen,  leaving  their  rifles,  with  char- 
acteristic rashness  or  ignorance  behind  them.  Their  neglect  had 
nearly  cost  them  dear ;  for  just  before  we  came  up,  half  a  dozen 
Indians  approached,  and  seeing  them  apparently  defenseless,  one 
of  the  rascals  seized  the  bridle  of  Turner's  fine  horse,  and  ordered 
him  to  dismount.  Turner  was  wholly  unarmed ;  but  the  other  jerked 
a  little  revolving  pistol  out  of  his  pocket,  at  which  the  Pawnee  re- 
coiled ;  and  just  then  some  of  our  men  appearing  in  the  distance, 
the  whole  party  whipped  their  rugged  little  horses,  and  made  off. 
In  no  way  daunted.  Turner  foolishly  persisted  in  going  forward. 

Long  after  leaving  him,  and  late  this  afternoon,  in  the  midst  of 
a  gloomy  and  barren  prairie,  we  came  suddenly  upon  the  great 
Pawnee  trail,  leading  from  their  villages  on  the  Platte  to  their  war 
and  hunting  grounds  to  the  southward.  Here  every  summer  pass 
the  motley  concourse;  thousands  of  savages,  men,  women,  and 
children,  horses  and  mules,  laden  with  their  weapons  and  imple- 
ments, and  an  innumerable  multitude  of  unruly  wolfish  dog;§,  who 
have  not  acquired  the  civilized  accomplishment  of  barking,  but 
howl  like  their  wild  cousins  of  the  prairie. 

The  permanent  winter  villages  of  the  Pawnees  stand  on  the  lower 
Platte,  but  throughout  the  summer  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabi- 


1 1 


The  Oregon  Trail 


49 


tants  are  wandering  over  the  plains,  a  treacherous  cowardly  ban- 
ditti, who  by  a  thousand  acts  of  pillage  and  murder  have  deserved 
summary  chastisement  at  the  hands  of  government.  Last  year  a 
Dakota  warrior  performed  a  signal  exploit  at  one  of  these  villages. 
He  approached  it  alone  in  the  middle  of  a  3ark  night,  and  clamber- 
ing up  the  outside  of  one  of  the  lodges  which  are  in  the  form  of  a 
half-sphere,  he  looked  in  at  the  round  hole  made  at  the  top  for  the 
escape  of  smoke.  The  dusky  light  from  the  smoldering  embers 
showed  him  the  forms  of  the  sleeping  inmates;  and  dropping 
lightly  through  the  opening,  he  unsheathed  his  knife,  and  stirring 
tVie  fire  cooly  selected  his  victims.  One  by  one  he  stabbed  and 
scalped  them,  when  a  child  suddenly  awoke  and  screamed.  He 
rushed  from  the  lodge,  yelled  a  Sioux  war-cry,  shouted  his  name 
in  triumph  and  defiance,  and  in  a  moment  had  darted  out  upon  the 
dark  prairie,  leaving  the  whole  village  behind  him  in  a  tumult,  with 
the  howling  and  baying  of  dogs,  the  screams  of  women  and  the 
yells  of  the  enraged  warriors. 

Our  friend  Kearsley,  as  we  learned  on  rejoining  him,  signalized 
himself  by  a  less  bloody  achievement.  He  and  his  men  were  good 
woodsmen,  and  well  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  rifle,  but  found  them- 
selves wholly  out  of  their  element  on  the  prairie.  None  of  them  had 
ever  seen  a  buffalo  and  they  had  very  vague  conceptions  of  his 
nature  and  appearance.  On  the  day  after  they  reached  the  Platte, 
looking  toward  a  distant  swell,  they  beheld  a  multitude  of  little 
black  specks  in  motion  upon  its  surface. 

"Take  your  rifles,  boys,"  said  Kearsley,  "and  we'll  have  fresh 

I  meat  for  supper."  This  inducement  was  quite  sufficient.  The  ten 

jmen  left  their  wagons  and  set  out  in  hot  haste,  some  on  horseback 

and  some  on  foot,  in  pursuit  of  the  supposed  buffalo.  Meanwhile 

a  high  grassy  ridge  shut  the  game  from  view ;  but  mounting  it  after 

half  an  hour's  running  and  riding,  they  found  themselves  suddenly 

[confronted  by  about  thirty  mounted  Pawnees!  The  amazement 

and  consternation  were  mutual.  Having  nothing  but  their  bows  and 

arrows,  the  Indians  thought  their  hour  was  come,  and  the  fate  that 

they  were  no  doubt  conscious  of  richly  deserving  about  to  overtake 

them.  So  they  began,  one  and  all,  to  shout  forth  the  most  cordial 

salutations  of  friendship,  running  up  with  extreme  earnestness  to 

shake  hands  with  the  Missourians,  who  were  as  much  rejoiced  as 

I  they  were  to  escape  the  expected  conflict. 


M 


\ 


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■ 
.     : 

i 

ill 
'  '  L 

:    1 

\ 


50 


TiiK  Orkgon  Thau, 


A^Tlio 


'/ 


A  low  undulatiiip  line  of  sand-hills  bntindrd  llir  horizon  Iwforc 
us.  That  day  wc  rode  ton  consecutive  hoins,  and  it  was  dusk  heforc 
we  entered  the  hollows  and  j^or^es  of  these  gloomy  little  hills.  At 
lenjjth  we  gained  (he  summit,  and  the  lonj^  rxpeiMed  valley  of  tlir 
Pl^^c  lay  before  us.  We  all  drew  rein,  and,  j^athcriti^  in  a  knot  on 
the  ciTst  oi  thcTuTT,  sat  joyfully  looking  «lown  u|)on  the  prospect.  It 
was  ri^ht  welcome;  stranj^e  too.  and  striking  to  the  imaKinatinn, 
and  yet  it  had  not  one  picturesijue  or  heautiful  feature;  nor  ha<l  it 
any  of  the  features  of  ^^randeur.  other  than  its  vast  extent,  its  soli- 
tude,  and  its  wilderness.  For  leajjue  after  league  a  plain  as  level  ;is 
a  fri>zen  lake  was  outspread  heneath  us;  here  and  there  the  Platte, j 
divided  into  a  tloren  threaillike  sluices,  was  traversini^j  it,  and  an 
occasional  dump  of  w<xid.  risinj^  in  the  midst  like  a  shadowy  islatid.  I 
relieved  the  monotony  of  the  waste.  No  living;  thinj^  was  moving 
throughout  the  vast  landscape,  except  the  li/ards  that  darted  over 
the  vsand  and  through  the  rank  grass  and  prickly  pear  just  at  our 
feet.  And  yet  stern  ami  wild  associations  gave  a  singtilar  interest  to 
the  view;  for  here  e.ich  man  lives  by  the  strength  of  his  arm  ;ni(l| 
the  valor  of  his  heart.  Here  society  is  reduced  to  its  original  ek- 
ments.  the  whole  fabric  of  art  and  conventionality  is  struck  rudely 
to  pieces,  and  men  tind  themselves  suddetdy  brought  back  to  lhe| 
w.ints  and  resources  of  their  original  natures. 

We  had  ]xissed  the  more  toilsome  and  monotonous  part  of  the  I 
jouniey ;  but  four  hundred  miles  still  intervened  between  us  and 
Fort  Laramie;  and  to  re.ach  that  |x)int  cost  us  the  travel  of  three 
additional  weeks.  Ouring  the  whole  of  this  time  we  were  passing | 
up  the  center  of  a  long  narrow  sandy  plain,  reaching  like  an  out- 
stretched l>elt  nearly  to  the  l\(Kky  Mountains.  Two  lines  of  sand- 
hills, broken  often  into  the  wildest  and  most  fantastic  forms,  flanked  I 
the  valley  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  or  two  on  the  right  and  lc{t;| 
while  beyond  them  lay  a  barren,  trackless  waste — The  Great  Ameri- 
can Desert — extending  for  hundreds  of  miles  to  flie  Arkansas  onl 
tlie  OTIC  side,  and  the  Missouri  on  the  other.  lief  ore  us  and  behind 
us,  the  level  monotony  of  the  plain  was  unbroken  as  far  as  the  eye 
c^juld  reach.  Sometimes  it  glared  in  the  sun,  an  expanse  of  hot. 
bare  sand ;  sometimes  it  was  veiled  by  long  coarse  grass.  Huge 
skulls  and  whitening  bones  of  buffalo  were  scattered  everywhere; 
the  ground  was  tracked  by  myriads  of  them,  and  often  covered  with 


The  Orkoon  Thau, 


51 


tlir  circular  iriflcntatinns  where  the  biillB  had  wallowed  in  the  hot 
wcalluT.  I'Voiii  every  ^or^e  a»id  ravine,  (jpenin^  frotn  the  hiils,  <Ie- 
siriKlrd  deep,  well-worn  f)aths,  where  the  hiitTalcj  issue  twice  a  day 
ill  re^Ttilar  procession  down  to  drink  in  the  I'latte.  The  river  itself 
runs  thron^jh  the  tnidst,  a  thin  sheet  of  rapid,  turhid  water,  half  a 
mile  wi<le,  and  scarce  two  feet  deep.  Its  l(»w  hanks  for  the  most  part 
\vi(lu>tit  a  htish  or  a  tree,  are  of  loose  sand,  with  which  the  stream 
is  s(»  (harmed  that  it  grates  on  the  teeth  in  drinkin)i(.  The  naked 
latidscape  is,  of  itself,  dreary  and  nionotonoiis  enoti^li,  and  yet  the 
wild  heasts  and  wild  men  that  fre(|ucjent  the  valley  of  the  Platte 
make  it  a  scene  of  interest  and  excitement  tf>  the  traveler.  ( )f  those 
who  have  journeyed  there,  scarce  one,  perhaps,  fails  to  look  hack 
with  fond  rej^ret  to  his  horse  and  his  rifle. 

I'arly  in  the  morning  after  we  reached  the  I  Matte,  a  lon^  proccs- 
sior.  of  s(|ualid  savages  a()proached  our  camp.  I'.ach  was  on  foot, 
leading  his  horse  hy  a  rope  of  hull-hide.  His  attire  consisted  merely 
(<f  a  scaiit^LciactUIP  and  an  old  hufTalo  robe,  tattered  and  he^rimed  y 
thy  use,  which  htm^  over  his  shoulders.  His  head  was  close  shaven,  ^ 
except  a  ridjjc  of  hair  reachinj^  over  the  crown  from  the  center  of 
the  forehead,  very  much  like  the  lonj?  hristles  on  the  back  of  a 
hyena,  and  he  carried  his  f)ow  and  arrows  in  his  hand,  while  his 
meaner  little  horse  was  laden  with  dried  buffalo  meat,  the  produce 
of  his  hunting.  Such  were  the  first  si)ccimens  that  we  met — and 
very  indifferent  ones  they  were — of  the  genuine  savages  of  the 
[prairie. 

They  were  the  Pawnees  whom  Kearsley  had  encountered  the  day 

[before,  and  belonged  to  a  large  hunting  party  known  to  be  ranging 

the  prairie  in  the  vicinity.  They  strode  rapidly  past,  within  a  furlong 

of  our  tents,  not  pausing  or  looking  toward  us,  after  the  manner  of 

llndians  when  meditating  mischief  or  conscious  of  ill-desert.  I  went 

lout  and  met  them ;  and  had  an  amicable  conference  with  the  chief, 

Ipresenting  him  with  half  a  pound  of  tobacco,  at  which  unmerited 

Iboimty  he  expressed  much  gratification.  These  fellows,  or  some  of 

Ithcir  companions  had  committed  a  dastardly  outrage  up<^)n  an  emi-  y 

Igrant  party  in  advance  of  us.  Two  Mijn,  out  on  horseback  at  a  dis- 

Itance,  were  seized  by  them,  but  lashing  their  horses,  they  broke 

Iloose  and  fled.  At  this  the  Pawnees  raised  the  yell  and  shot  at  them, 

transfixing  the  hindermost  through  the  back  with  several  arrows, 


i!  \\, 


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52 


The  Oregon  Trail 


^i; 


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while  his  coni|\inion  galloped  away  and  brought  in  the  news  to  his 
party.  The  panic-stricken  emigrants  remained  for  several  days  in 
camp,  not  daring  even  to  send  out  in  (juest  of  the  dead  body. 

The  reader  will  recollect  Turner,  the  man  whose  narrow  escajH; 
was  mentioned  not  long  since.  We  heard  that  the  men,  whom  tlic 
entreaties  of  his  wife  induced  to  go  in  search  of  him,  found  hini 
leisurely  driving  along  his  recovered  oxen,  and  whistling  in  utter 
contempt  of  the  Pawnee  nation.  His  ])arty  was  encamped  within 
two  miles  of  us;  but  we  passed  them  that  morning,  while  the  nun 
were  driving  in  the  oxen,  and  the  women  packing  their  domestic 
utensils  and  their  numerous  offspring  in  the  spacious  patriarchal 
wagons.  As  we  looked  back  we  saw  their  caravan  dragging  its  slowl 
length  along  the  plain;  wearily  toiling  on  its  way,  to  found  ncw| 
empires  in  the  West. 

Our  New  England  climate  is  mild  and  e([ual)le  compared  with  I 
that  of  the  Platte.  This  very  morning,  for  instance,  was  close  and 
sultry,  the  sun  rising  with  a  faint  opprCvSsive  heat;  when  suddenly 
darkness  gathered  in  the  west,  and  a  furious  blast  of  sleet  and  hail 
drove  full  in  our  faces,  icy  cold,  and  urged  with  such  demoniac 
vehemence  that  it  felt  like  a  storm  of  needles.  It  was  curious  to  sit] 
the  horses;  they  faced  about  in  extreme  displeasure,  holding  their 
tails  like  whipjxxl  dogs,  and  shivering  as  the  angry  gusts,  howling 
louder  than  a  concert  of  wolves,  swept  over  us.  Wright's  long  train 
of  mules  came  sweeping  round  before  the  storm  like  a  flight  of 
brown  snowbirds  driven  by  a  winter  tempest.  Thus  we  all  remained 
stationary  for  some  minutes,  crouching  close  to  our  horses'  necks, 
much  too  surly  to  speak,  though  once  the  captain  looked  up  from 
between  the  collars  of  his  coat,  his  face  blood-red,  and  the  muscles 
of  his  mouth  contracted  by  the  cold  into  a  most  ludicrous  grin  of 
agony.  He  grumbled  something  that  sounded  like  a  curse,  directed 
as  we  believed,  against  the  unhappy  hour  when  he  had  first  thought] 
of  leaving  home.  1  he  thing  was  too  good  to  last  long ;  and  the  in- 
stant the  puffs  of  wind  subsided  we  erected  our  tents,  and  remained! 
in  camp  for  the  rest  of  a  gloomy  and  lowering  day.  The  emigrants| 
also  encamped  near  at  hand.  We,  being  first  on  the  ground,  had  ap- 
propriated all  the  wood  within  reach ;  so  that  our  fire  alone  blazed! 
cheerfully.  Around  it  soon  gathered  a  group  of  uncouth  figures, 
shivering  in  the  drizzling  rain.  Conspicuous  among  them  were  two 
or  three  of  the  half-savage  men  who  spend  their  reckless  lives  in 


The  Orkc.on  Trail 


^ 


lrai>i>ing  amonir  the  Rocky  Mountains,  or  in  trading  for  the  I'^ur 
^'()iiij);iny  in  the  Indian  villages.  They  were  all  of  Canadian  extrac- 
^ioti ;  their  hard,  weather-ln^aten  faces  and  hushy  nuistaches  looked 
)ut  from  heneath  the  hoods  of  their  white  capotes  with  a  had  and 
)riitish  expression,  as  if  their  owner  might  he  the  willing  i^gent  of 
iiiv  villainy.  And  such  in  fact  is  the  character  of  many  of  these 

ncti. 

( )ti  the  day  following  we  overtook  Kearsley'i  wagons,  and 
luiKT forward,  for  a  week  or  two,  we  were  fellow-travelers.  One 

1)0(1  efTect,  at  least,  resulted  from  the  alliance ;  it  materially  dimin- 
[slu'd  the  serious  fatigue  of  standing  guard  ;  for  the  party  hcing 

ow  more  nunierous,  there  were  longer  intervals  between  each 
nan's  turns  of  duty. 


Chapter  VII 
TIIK  BUFFALO 

•"our  days  on  the  Platte,  and  yet  no  buffalo !  Last  year's  signs  of 

iiem   were   provokingly   abundant ;   and    wood   being   extremely 

carce,  we  found  an  admirable  substitute  in  the  bois  dc  vachc,  which 

^urns  exactly   like   peat,   producing  no   unpleasant   effects.   The 

wagons  one  morning  had  left  the  camp;  Shaw  and  I  were  already 

horseback,  but  Henry  Chatillon  still  sat  cross-legged  by  the 

fead  embers  of  the  fire,  playing  pensively  with  the  lock  of  his  rifle, 

diile  his  sturdy  Wyandotte  pony  stood  quietly  behind  him,  look- 

ig  over  his  head.  At  last  he  got  up,  patted  the  neck  of  the  pony 

[whom,  from  an  exaggerated  appreciation  of  his  merits,  he  had 

|hristcned  "Five  Hundred  Dollar"),  and  then  mounted  with  a 

lelancholy  air. 

"What  is  it,  Henry?" 

"Ah,  I  feel  lonesome ;  I  never  been  here  before ;  but  I  see  away 

)iKlcr  over  the  buttes,  and  down  there  on  the  prairie,  black — all 
lack  with  bulTalo  I"  > 

In  the  afternoon  he  and  I  left  the  party  in  search  of  an  antelope ; 

itil  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  or  two  on  the  right,  the  tall  white 
^agons  and  the  little  black  specks  of  horsemen  were  just  visible,  so 


\ 


4       1 

w 


\\ 


t! 


t! 


'  ». 


li  ' 


iSii' 


54 


The  Oregon  Trail 


slowly  advancing  that  they  seemed  motionless ;  and  far  on  the  left! 
rose  the  broken  hne  of  scorched,  desolate  s?.nd-hills.  The  vast  plainl 
waved  with  tall  rank  grass  that  swept  our  horses'  bellies ;  it  swayed 
to  and  fro  in  billows  with  the  light  breeze,  and  far  and  near  antef 
lope  and  wolves  were  moving  through  it,  the  hairy  backs  of  the! 
latter  alternately  appearing  and  disappearing  as  they  bounded! 
awkwardly  along ;  while  the  antelope,  with  the  simple  curiosity  pel 
culiar  to  them,  would  often  approach  us  closely,  their  little  hornsl 
i :nd  white  throats  just  visible  above  the  grass  tops,  as  they  gaze(i| 
eagerly  at  us  with  their  round  black  eyes. 

1  dismounted,  and  amused  myself  with  firing  at  the  wolves,! 
Henry  attentively  scrutinized  the  surrounding  landscape ;  a:| 
length  he  give  a  shout,  and  called  on  me  to  mount  again,  pointing 
in  the  direc»:ion  ot  the  sand-hillc.  A  mile  and  a  half  from  us,  two! 
minute  black  specAS  slowly  traversed  the  face  of  one  of  the  bar:| 
glaring  declivities,  and  disappeared  behind  the  summit.  "Let  us  go! 
cried  Henry,  belaboring  the  sides  of  Five  Hundred  Dollar ;  and 
following  in  his  wake,  we  galloped  rapidly  tlirough  the  rank  grasi] 
toward  the  base  of  the  hills. 

From  one  of  theii  openings  descended  a  deep  ravine,  widenir 
as  it  issued  on  the  prairie.  We  entered  it,  and  galloping  up,  in 
moment  were  surrounded  by  the  bleak  sand-hills.  Half  of  thei: 
steep  sides  were  bare  ;  the  rest  were  scantily  clothed  with  clumps  of 
grass,  and  various  uncouth  plants,  conspicuous  among  which  a^ 
peared  the  reptile-like  prickly-pear.  They  were  gashed  with  numf 
berless  ravines ;  and  as  the  sky  had  suddenly  darkened,  and  a  colif 
gusty  wind  arisen,  the  strange  shrubs  and  the  dreary  hills  looke 
doubly  wild  and  desolate.  But  Henry's  face  w:*s  all  eagerness.  H^ 
tore  off  a  little  hair  from  the  piece  of  buffalo  robe  under  his  saddle. 
and  threw  it  up,  to  show  the  course  of  tht  wind.  It  Wew  directlj 
before  us.  The  game  were  therefore  to  windward,  and  it  was  neces} 
sary  to  make  our  best  speed  to  get  around  them. 

We  scrambled  from  this  ravine,  and  galloping  away  through  th 
hollows,  soon  found  another,  v/inding  like  a  snake  among  the  hilli| 
and  so  deep  that  il  completely  concealed  us.  We  rode  up  the  bottou 
of  it,  glancing  through  the  shrubbery  at  its  edge,  till  Henry  abniptli 
jerked  his  rein,  and  slid  out  of  bis  saddle.  Full  a  quarter  of  a  mil[ 
distant,  on  the  outline  of  the  farthest  hill,  a  long  procession 
buffalo  were  walking,  in  Indian  file,  with  the  utmost  gravity  anJ 


H'  !M 


The  Oregon  Trail 


55 


leliberation;  then  more  appeared,  clambering  from  a  hollow  not 
far  off,  and  ascending,  one  behind  the  other,  the  grassy  slope  of 
mother  hill ;  then  a  shs.g/^  head  and  a  pair  of  short  broken  horns 
ippeared  issuing  out  of  a  ravine  close  at  hand,  and  with  a  slow, 
stately  step,  one  by  one,  the  enormous  brutes  came  into  view,  taking 
their  way  across  the  valley,  wholly  unconscious  of  an  enemy.  In  a 
noment  Henry  was  worming  his  way,  lying  flat  on  the  ground, 
through  grass  and  prickly-pears,  toward  his  unsuspecting  victims. 

[e  had  with  him  both  my  rifle  and  his  own.  He  was  soon  out  of 
sight,  and  still  the  buffalo  kept  issuing  into  the  valley.  For  a  loiig 
^ime  all  was  silent.  I  sat  holding  his  horse,  and  wondering  what  he 
,as  about,  when  suddenly,  in  rapid  succession,  came  the  sharp  re- 
)orts  of  the  two  rifles,  and  the  whole  line  of  buffalo,  quickening 
^hcir  pace  into  a  clumsy  trot,  gradually  disappeared  over  the  ridge 
)f  the  hill.  Henry  rose  to  his  feet,  and  stood  looking  after  them. 

"You  have  missed  them,"  said  I. 

"Yes,"  said  Henry;  "let  us  go."  He  descended  into  the  ravine, 
loaded  the  rifles,  and  mounted  his  horse. 
We  rode  up  the  hill  afte^  the  buffalo.  The  herd  was  out  of  sight 

Hien  we  reached  the  top,  but  lying  on  the  grass  not  far  off,  was  one 
Juite  lifeless,  and  another  violently  struggling  in  the  death  agony. 
"You  see  I  miss  him !"  remarked  Henry.  He  had  fired  from  a  dis- 

ince  of  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  and  both  balls  had 
jiassed  through  the  lungs — the  true  mark  in  shooting  buffalo. 

The  darkness  increased,  and  a  driving  storm  came  on.  Tying  our 
Worses  to  the  horns  of  the  victims,  Henry  began  the  bloody  work 
[f  dissection,  slashing  away  with  the  science  of  a  connoisseur,  while 

vainly  endeavored  to  imitate  him,  Old  Hendrick  recoiled  with 
^orror  and  indignation  when  I  endeavored  to  tie  the  meat  to  the 

trings  of  rawhide,  always  carried  for  this  purpose,  dangling  at 

le  back  of  the  saddle.  After  some  difficulty  we  overcame  his 

:ruples;  and  heavily  burdened  with  the  more  eligible  portions  of 

le  buffalo,  we  set  out  on  our  return.  Scarcely  had  we  emerged 
[rom  the  labyrinth  of  gorges  and  ravines,  and  issued  upon  the  open 

rairie,  when  the  pricking  sleet  came  driving,  gust  upon  gust, 
frectly  in  our  faces.  It  was  strangely  dark,  though  wanting  still  an 

)ur  of  sunset.  The  freezing  storm  soon  penetrated  to  the  skin,  but 

le  uneasy  trot  of  our  heavy-gaited  horses  kept  us  warm  enough, 
we  forced  them  unwJlingly  in  the  teeth  of  the  sleet  and  rain,  by 


\ 


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"A 


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■  ,1 


56 


The  Oregon  Trail 


the  powerful  suasion  of  our  Indian  whips.  The  prairie  in  this  place] 
was  hard  and  level.  A  flourishing  colony  of  prairie  dogs  had  \m- 
rowed  into  it  in  every  direction,  and  the  little  mounds  of  fresh  I 
earth  around  their  holes  were  ahout  as  numerous  as  the  hills  in  a 
cornfield ;  but  not  a  yelp  was  to  be  heard ;  not  the  nose  of  a  sinj(le| 
citizen  was  visible ;  all  had  retired  to  the  depths  of  their  burrows, 
and  we  envied  them  their  drv  and  comfortable  habitations.  An  I 
hour's  hard  riding  showed  us  our  tent  dimly  looming  through  the 
storm,  one  side  jn.fFed  out  by  the  force  of  the  wind,  and  the  ()tlier| 
collapsed  in  prop  rtion,  while  the  disconsolate  horses  stood  shiver- 
ing close  around,  and  the  wind  kept  up  a  dismal  whistling  in  the  I 
boughs  of  three  old  half -dead  trees  above.  Shaw,  like  a  patriarch, 
sat  on  his  saddle  in  the  entrance,  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  his 
arms  folded,  contemplating,  with  cool  satisfaction  the  piles  of  meat 
that  we  flung  on  the  ground  before  him.  A  dark  and  dreary  night 
succeeded  :  1)ut  the  sun  rose  with  a  heat  so  sultry  and  languid  that 
the  cajUniii  excused  himself  on  that  account  from  waylaying  an  old 
buffalo  bull,  wijo  with  stupid  gravity  was  walking  over  the  prairiej 
to  drink  at  the  river.  Sq^much  for  the  climate  of  the  Platte ! 

But  it  was  not  the  weather  alone  that  had  produced  this  suddeivl 
abatement  of  the  sportsmanlike  zeal  which  the  captain  had  always! 
profe-^^-.a.  He  had  been  out  on  the  afternoon  before,  together  with 
several  members  of  his  party ;  but  their  hunting  was  attended  with 
no  other  result  than  the  loss  of  one  of  their  best  horses,  severely 
injured  by  Sorel,  in  vainly  chasing  a  wounded  bull.  The  captain, 
whose  ideas  of  hard  riding  were  all  derived  from  trans-atlantic 
sources,  expressed  the  utmost  amazement  at  the  feats  of  Sorel,  who 
went  leaping  ravines,  and  dashing  at  full  speed  up  and  down  the 
sides  of  precipitous  hills,  lashing  his  horse  with  the  recklessness  of 
a  Rocky  Mountain  rider.  Unfortunately  for  the  poor  animal  he  was 
the  property  of  R.,  against  whom  Sorel  entertained  an  unbounded 
aversion.  The  captain  himself,  it  seemed,  had  also  attempted  to 
"run"  a  buffalo,  but  though  a  good  and  practiced  horseman,  hel 
had  soon  given  over  the  attempt,  being  astonished  and  utterly  dis- 
gusted at  the  nature  of  the  ground  he  was  required  to  ride  over.  I 

Nothing  unusual  occurred  on  that  day;  but  on  the  following 
morning  Henry  Chatillon,  looking  over  the  oceanlike  expanse,  saw 
near  the  foot  of  the  distant  hills  something  that  looked  like  a  baiidl 
of  buflfalo.  He  was  not  sure,  he  said,  but  at  all  events,  if  they  were! 


Hi 


iii 


iii> 


The  Oregon  Trail 


57 


IbulTalo,  there  was  a  fine  chance  for  a  race.  Shaw  and  I  at  once  de- 
lenniiicd  to  try  the  speed  of  our  horses. 

•'Come,  captain ;  we'll  see  which  can  ride  hardest,  a  Yankee  or 
111  Irishnan." 

But  the  captain  maintained  a  grave  and  austere  countenance.  He 
iiouiitcd  his  led  horse,  however,  though  very  slowly ;  and  we  set 
)ut  at  a  trot.  The  game  appeared  about  three  miles  distant.  As  we 
)r()a'e(lL'(l  the  captain  made  various  remarks  of  doubt  and  indeci- 
sion ;  and  at  length  declared  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  such 

hri'akncck  business ;  protesting  that  he  had  ridden  plenty  of 
Btecplc-chases  in  his  day,  but  he  never  knew  what  riding  was  till  he 
found  himself  behind  a  band  of  buffalo  day  before  yesterday.  "I 
ini  conviticed,"  said  the  captain,  "that,  'running'  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion.* Take  my  advice  now  and  don't  attempt  it.  It's  dangerous,  and 
if  no  use  at  all." 

"Then  why  did  you  come  out  with  us?  What  do  you  mean  to 


lo 


r' 


"I  shall  'approach,'  "  replied  the  captain. 

"You  don't  mean  to  'approach*  with  your  pistols,  do  you?  We 
lavc  all  of  us  left  our  rifles  in  the  wagons." 

The  captain  seemed  staggered  at  the  suggestion.  In  his  character- 
5tic  indecision,  at  setting  out^  pistols,  rifles,  "running"  and  "ap- 
proaching" were  mingled  in  an  inextricable  medley  in  his  brain.  lie 

rotted  on  in  silence  between  us  for  a  while ;  but  at  length  he 
propped  behind,  and  slowly  walked  his  horse  back  to  rejoin  the 

irty.  Shaw  and  I  kept  on ;  when  lo !  as  we  advanced,  the  band  of 
^uffalo  were  transformed  into  certain  clumps  of  tall  bushes,  dotting 

le  prairie  for  a  considerable  distance.  At  this  ludicrous  termina- 
^on  of  our  chase,  we  followed  the  example  of  our  late  aliy,  and 

irned  back  toward  the  party.  We  were  skirting  the  brink  of  a 
[eep  ravine,  when  we  saw  Henry  and  the  broad-chested  pony  com- 

ig  toward  us  at  a  gallop. 
"Here's  old  Papin  and  Frederic,  down  from  Fort  Laramie!'* 

louted  Henry,  long  before  he  came  up.  We  had  for  some  days  ex- 
acted this  encounter.  Papin  was  the  bourgeois  of  Fort  Laramie. 


*The  method  of  hunting  called  "running"  consists  in  attacking  the 
iffalo  on  horseback  and  shooting  him  with  bullets  or  arrows  when  at 
ill-speed.   In   "approaching,"   the  hunter   conceals   himself  and   crawls 

the  ground  toward  the  game,  or  lies  in  wait  to  kill  them. 


j|'- 


W^ 


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III  Mil 


58 


Thk  Oregon  Trail 


He  had  come  down  the  river  with  the  huffalo  rol)cs  and  the  beaver, 
the  prochice  of  the  last  winter's  tradinjj.  I  had  aninn^  our  ba^j^af;? 
a  letter  which  I  wished  to  commit  to  their  hands ;  so  requestini; 
Henry  to  detain  the  boats  if  he  could  until  my  return,  I  set  out  after 
the  wa^^ms.  They  were  about  four  miles  in  advance.  In  half  an 
hour  T  overtook  them,  p[ot  the  letter,  trotted  back  upon  the  trail, 
and  looking  carefully,  as  I  rode,  saw  a  patch  of  broken,  storm- 
blasted  trees,  and  moving^  near  them  some  little  black  specks  like 
men  and  horses.  Arriving  at  the  place,  I  found  a  strange  assembly | 
The  boats,  eleven  in  number,  deep-laden  with  the  skins,  hugj,'i 
close  to  the  shore,  to  escape  being  borne  down  by  the  swift  current  I 
The  rowers,  swarthy  ignoble  Mexicans,  turned  their  brutish  face? 
upward  to  look,  as  1  reached  the  bank.  I*a|)in  sat  in  the  middle  oi| 
one  of  the  boats  upon  the  canvas  covering  that  protected  the  rohcj 
He  was  a  stout,  robust  fellow,  with  a  little  gray  eye,  that  had  al 
peculiarly  sly  twinkle.  "Frederic"  also  stretched  his  tall  rawbonciil 
proportions  close  by  the  bourgeois,  and  "mountain-men"  complctedl 
the  gioup:  some  lounging  in  the  boats,  some  strolling  on  shore 
some  attired  in  gayly  painted  buffalo  robes,  like  Indian  dandies 
some  with  hair  saturated  with  red  paint,  and  beplastered  with  gluel 
to  their  temples ;  and  one  bedaubed  with  vermilion  upon  his  forej 
head  and  each  cheek.  They  were  a  mongrel  race ;  yet  the  Frencll 
blood  seemed  to  predominate ;  in  a  few,  indeed,  might  be  seen  tliel 
black  snaky  eye  ot  the  Indian  half-breed,  and  one  and  all,  theyl 
seemed  to  aim  at  assimilating  themselves  to  their  savage  associates! 

I  shook  hands  with  the  bourgeois,  and  delivered  the  letter ;  thecl 
the  boats  swung  round  into  the  stream  and  floated  away.  They  hal 
reason  for  haste,  for  already  the  voyage  from  Fort  Laramie  Ml 
occupied  a  full  month,  and  the  river  was  growing  daily  more  shall 
low.  Fifty  times  a  day  the  boats  had  been  aground ;  indeed,  thoal 
who  navigate  the  Platte  invariably  spend  half  their  time  upon  sandj 
bars.  Two  of  these  boats,  the  property  of  private  traders,  afterwarJ 
separating  from  the  rest,  got  hopelessly  involved  in  the  shallow^ 
not  very  far  from  the  Pawnee  villages,  and  were  soon  surroundecl 
by  a  swarm  of  the  inhabitants.  They  carried  off  everything  that  theJ 
considered  valuable,  including  most  of  the  robes  ;  and  amused  thenil 
selves  by  tying  up  the  men  left  on  guard  and  soundly  whipping 
them  with  sticks. 

We  encamped  that  night  upon  the  bank  of  the  river.  Among  thtl 


The  Orecon  Trail 


59 


ciiii^'rants  there  was  an  overgrown  boy,  some  eighteen  years  old, 
with  a  head  as  roiiiul  and  ahout  as  large  as  a  punii)kin,  an(l  (gvcr^ 
atid-ague  fits  had  dyed  his  face  of  a  corresponding  color.  He  wore 
ail  old  white  hat,  tied  under  his  chin  with  a  handkerchief ;  his  liody 
\v;is  short  and  stout,  hut  his  legs  of  disfjroportioned  and  appalling 
Iciij^lh.  I  observed  him  at  sunset,  breasting  the  hill  with  gigantic 
strides,  and  standing  against  the  sky  on  the  summit,  like  a  colossal 
pair  of  tongs.  In  a  moment  after  we  heard  him  screaming  franti- 
cally behind  the  ridge,  and  nothing  doubting  that  he  was  in  the 
clutches  of  Indians  or  grizzly  bears,  some  of  the  party  caught  up 
their  rifles  and  ran  to  the  rescue.  1  lis  outcries,  however,  ])roved  but 
ail  ebullition  of  joyous  excitement;  he  had  chased  two  little  wolf 
pui)s  to  their  burrow,  and  he  was  on  his  knees,  grubbing  away  like 
a  (log  at  the  mouth  of  the  hole,  to  get  at  them. 

liefore  morning  he  caused  more  serious  disquiet  in  the  camp.  It 
was  his  turn  to  hold  the  middle  guard ;  but  no  sooner  was  he  called 
up,  than  he  coolly  arranged  a  pair  of  saddle-bags  under  a  wagon, 
laid  his  head  upon  them,  closed  his  eyes,  opened  his  mouth  and  fell 
aslc'cj).  The  guard  on  our  side  of  the  camp,  thinking  it  no  part  of 
his  duty  to  look  after  the  cattle  of  the  emigrants,  contented  him- 
self with  watching  our  own  horses  and  mules ;  the  wolves,  he  said, 
were  unusually  noisy ;  but  still  no  mischief  was  anticipated  until 
the  sun  rose,  and  not  a  hoof  or  horn  was  in  sight !  The  cattle  were 
gone!  While  Tom  was  quietly  slumbering,  the  wolves  had  driven 
them  away. 

Then  we  reaped  the  fruits  of  R.'s  precious  plan  of  traveling  in 
company  with  emigrants.  To  leave  them  in  their  distress  was  not 
to  he  thought  of,  and  we  felt  bound  to  wait  until  the  cattle  could  be 
searched  for,  and,  if  possible,  recovered.  But  the  reader  may  be 
curious  to  know  what  punishment  awaited  the  faithless  Tom.  By 
the  wholesome  law  of  the  prairie,  he  who  falls  asleep  on  guard  is 
condemned  to  walk  all  day  leading  his  horse  by  the  bridle,  and  we 
found  much  fault  with  our  companions  for  not  enforcing  such  a 
sentence  on  the  offender.  Nevertheless  had  he  been  of  our  party,  I 
have  no  doubt  he  would  in  like  manner  have  escaped  scot-free.  But 
the  emigrants  went  farther  than  mere  forbearance ;  they  decreed 
that  since  Tom  couldn't  stand  guard  without  falling  asleep,  he 
shouldn't  stand  guard  at  all,  and  henceforward  his  slumbers  were 
unbroken.  Establishing  such  a  premium  on  drowsiness  could  have 


'I 


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60 


The  Oregon  Trail 


liO  very  beneficial  effect  upon  the  vigilance  of  our  sentinels ;  for  it 
is  far  from  agreeable,  after  riding  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  to  feel 
your  slumbers  interrupted  by  the  butt  of  a  rifle  nudging  your  side, 
and  a  sleepy  voice  growling  in  your  ear  that  you  must  get  up,  to 
shiver  and  freeze  for  three  weary  hours  at  midnight. 

"Buffalo!  buffalo!"  It  was  but  a  grim  old  bull,  roaming  the 
v^      prairie  by  himself  in  misanthropic  seclusion ;  but  there  might  be 
f     more  behind  the  hillsrDreading  the  monotony  and  languor  of  the 
camp,  Shaw  and  I  saddled  our  horses,  buckled  our  holsters  in  their 
places,  and  set  out  with  Henry  Chatillon  in  search  of  the  game. 
Henry,  not  intending  to  take  part  in  the  chase,  but  merely  conduct- 
ing us,  carried  his  rifle  with  him,  while  he  left  ours  behind  as  in- 
cumbrances. We  rode  for  some  five  or  six  miles,  and  saw  no  living 
thing  but  wolves,  snakes,  and  prairie  dogs. 
"This  won't  do  at  all,"  said  Shaw. 
"What  won't  do?" 

"There's  no  wood  about  here  to  make  a  litter  for  the  wounded 
man ;  I  have  an  idea  that  one  of  us  will  need  something  of  the  sort 
before  the  day  is  over." 
!  There  was  some  foundation  for  such  an  apprehension,  for  the 
I  ground  was  none  of  the  best  for  a  race,  and  grew  worse  con- 
i'  tinually  as  we  proceeded;  indeed  it  soon  became  desperately  bad, 
j  consisting  of  -abrupt  hills  and  deep  hollows,  cut  by  frequent  ravines 
not  easy  to  pass.  At  length,  a  mile  in  advance,  we  saw  a  band  of 
bulls.  Some  were  scattered  grazing  over  a  green  declivity,  while  the 
rest  were  crowded  more  densely  together  in  the  wide  hollow  be- 
low. Making  a  circuit  to  keep  out  of  sight,  we  rode  toward  them 
Ui.til  we  ascended  a  hill  within  a  furlong  of  them,  beyond  which 
nothing  intervened  that  could  possibly  screen  us  from  their  view. 
We  dismounted  behind  the  ridge  just  out  of  sight,  drew  our  saddle- 
girths,  examined  our  pistols,  and  mounting  agam  rode  over  the 
hill,  and  descended  at  a  canter  toward  them,  bending  close  to  our 
horses'  necks.  Instantly  they  took  the  alarm ;  those  on  the  hill  de- 
scended ;  those  below  gathered  into  a  mass,  and  the  whole  got  in 
motion,  shouldering  each  other  along  at  a  clumsy  gallop.  We  fol- 
lowed, spurring  our  horses  to  full  speed ;  and  as  the  herd  rushed, 
crowding  and  trampling  in  terror  through  an  opening  in  the  hills, 
we  were  close  at  their  heels,  half  suffocated  by  the  clouds  of  dust. 
But  as  we  drew  near,  their  alarm  and  speed  increased ;  our  horses 


I 


The  Oregon  Trail 


61 


showed  signs  of  the  utmost  fear,  bounding  violently  aside  as  we 
approached,  and  refusing  to  enter  among  the  herd.  The  buffalo  now 
broke  into  several  small  bodies,  scampering  over  the  hills  in  differ- 
ent directions,  and  I  lost  sight  of  Shaw ;  neither  of  us  knew  where 
the  other  had  gone.  Old  Pontiac  ran  like  a  frantic  elephant  up  hill 
and  down  hill,  his  ponderous  hoofs  striking  the  prairie  like  sledge- 
hammers. He  showed  a  curious  mixture  of  eagerness  and  terror, 
straining  to  overtake  the  panic-stricken  herd,  but  constantly  re- 
coiling in  dismay  as  we  drew  near.  The  fugitives,  indeed,  offered  no 
very  attractive  spectacle,  with  their  enormous  size  and  weight,  their 
shaggy  manes  and  the  tattered  remnants  of  their  last  winter's  hair 
covering  their  backs  in  irregular  shreds  and  patches,  and  flying  off 
in  the  wind  as  they  ran.  At  length  I  urged  my  horse  close  behind  a 
bull,  and  after  trying  in  vain,  by  blows  and  spurring,  to  bring 
him  alongside,  I  shot  a  bullet  into  the  buffalo  from  this  disad- 
vantageous position.  At  the  report,  Pontiac  swerved  so  much  that 
I  was  again  thrown  a  little  behind  the  game.  The  bullet,  entering 
too  much  in  the  rear,  failed  to  disable  the  bull,  for  a  buffalo  re- 
quires to  be  shot  at  particular  points,  or  he  will  certainly  escape. 
The  herd  ran  up  a  hill,  and  I  followed  in  pursuit.  As  Pontiac 
rushed  headlong  down  on  the  other  side,  I  saw  Shaw  and  Henry 
descending  the  hollow  on  the  right,  at  a  leisurely  gallop;  and  in 
front,  the  buffalo  were  just  disappearing  behind  the  crest  of  the 
next  hill,  their  short  tails  erect,  and  their  hoofs  twinkling  through  a 
cloud  of  dust. 

At  that  moment,  I  heard  Shaw  and  Henry  shouting  to  me ;  but 
the  muscles  of  a  stronger  arm  than  mine  could  not  have  checked 
at  once  the  furious  course  of  Pontiac,  whose  mouth  was  as  in- 
sensible as  leather.  Added  to  this,  I  rode  him  that  morning  with  a 
common  snaffle,  having  the  day  before,  for  the  benefit  of  my  other 
horse,  unbuckled  from  my  bridle  the  curb  which  I  ordinarily  used. 
A  stronger  and  hardier  brute  never  trod  the  prairie ;  but  the  novel 
sight  of  the  buffalo  filled  him  with  terror,  and  when  at  full  speed 
he  was  almost  incontrollable.  Gaining  the  top  of  the  ridge,  I  saw 
nothing  of  the  buffalo ;  they  had  all  vanished  amid  the  intricacies 
of  the  hills  and  hollows.  Reloading  my  pistols,  in  the  best  way  I 
could,  I  galloped  on  until  I  saw  them  again  scuttling  along  at  the 
l)ase  of  the  hill,  their  panic  somewhat  abated.  Down  went  old 
Pontiac  among  them,  scattering  them  to  the  right  and  left,  and 


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62 


The  Oregon  Trail 


W  '' 


I  'i 


M*  riil'ii  ■!■ 


then  we  had  another  long  chase.  About  a  dozen  bulls  were  before 
us,  scouring  over  the  hills,  rushing  down  the  declivities  with 
tremendous  weight  and  impetuosity,  and  then  laboring  with  a 
weary  gallop  upward.  Still  Pontiac,  in  spite  of  spurring  and  beat- 
ing, would  not  close  with  them.  One  bull  at  length  fell  a  JHtle  be- 
hind the  rest,  and  by  dint  of  much  effort  I  urged  my  horse  within 
six  or  eight  yards  of  his  side.  His  back  was  darkened  with  sweat; 
he  was  panting  heavily,  while  his  tongue  lolled  out  a  foot  from  his 
jaws.  Gradually  I  came  up  abreast  of  him,  urging  Pontiac  with  leg 
and  rein  nearer  to  his  side,  when  suddenly  he  did  what  buffalo  in 
such  circumstances  will  always  do ;  he  slackened  his  gallop,  and 
turning  toward  us,  with  an  aspect  of  mingled  rage  and  distress, 
lowered  his  huge  shaggy  head  for  a  charge.  Pontiac,  with  a  snort, 
leaped  aside  in  terror,  nearly  throwing  me  to  the  ground,  as  I  was 
wholly  unprepared  for  such  an  evolution.  I  raised  my  pistol  in  a 
passion  to  strike  him  on  the  head,  but  thinking  better  of  it,  fired  the 
bullet  after  the  bull,  who  had  resumed  his  flight,  then  drew  rein, 
and  determined  to  rejoin  my  companions.  It  was  high  time.  The 
breath  blew  hard  from  Pontiac's  nostrils,  and  the  sweat  rolled  in 
big  drops  down  his  sides;  I  myself  felt  as  if  drenched  in  warm 
water.  Pledging  myself  (and  I  redeemed  the  pledge)  to  take  my 
revenge  at  a  future  opportunity,  I  looked  round  for  some  indica- 
tions to  show  me  where  I  was,  and  what  course  I  ought  to  pursue ; 
I  might  as  well  have  looked  for  landmarks  in  the  midst  of  the 
ocean.  How  many  miles  I  had  run  or  in  what  direction,  I  had  no 
idea;  and  around  me  the  prairie  was  rolling  in  steep  swells  and 
pitches,  without  a  single  distinctive  feature  to  guide  me.  I  had  a 
Httle  compass  hung  at  my  neck ;  and  ignorant  that  the  Platte  at  this 
point  diverged  considerably  from  its  easterly  course,  I  thought  that 
by  keeping  to  the  northward  I  should  certainly  reach  it.  So  I  turned 
and  rode  about  two  hours  in  that  direction.  The  prairie  changed 
as  I  advanced,  softening  away  into  easier  undulations,  but  nothing 
like  the  Platte  appeared,  nor  any  sign  of  a  human  being ;  the  same 
wild  endless  expanse  lay  around  me  still ;  and  to  all  appearance  I 
was  as  far  from  my  object  as  ever.  I  began  now  to  consider  myself 
in  danger  of  being  lost ;  and  therefore,  reining  in  my  horse,  sum- 
moned the  scanty  share  of  woodcraft  that  I  possessed  (if  that  term 
be  applicable  upon  the  prairie)  to  extricate  me.  Looking  round,  it 
occurred  to  me  that  the  buffalo  might  prove  my  best  guides.  I  soon 


The  Oregon  Trail 


63 


lound  one  of  the  paths  made  by  them  in  their  passage  to  the  river ; 
ran  nearly  at  right  angles  to  my  course ;  but  turning  my  horse's 
lead  in  the  direction  it  indicated,  his  freer  gait  and  erected  ears 
[ssured  me  that  I  was  right. 
But  in  the  meantime  my  ride  had  been  by  no  means  a  solitary 
le.  The  whole  face  of  the  country  was  dotted  far  and  wide  with 
)untlcss  hundreds  of  buffalo.  They  trooped  along  in  files  and 
)lumns,  bulls,  cows,  and  calves,  on  the  green  faces  of  the  declivi- 
|es  in  front.  They  scrambled  away  over  the  hills  to  the  right  and 
;ft ;  and  far  off,  the  pale  blue  swells  in  the  extreme  distance  were^ 
3tted  with  innumerable  specks.  Sometimes  I  surprised  shaggy  old^ 
ills  grazing  alone,  or  sleeping  behind  the  ridges  I  ascended.  The5n' 
^ould  leap  up  at  my  approach,  stare  stupidly  at  me  through  theiil 
^ngled  manes,  and  then  gallop  heavily  away.  The  antelope  were 
»ry  numerous;  and  as  they  are  always  bold  when  in  the  neigh-, 
)rhood  of  buffalo,  they  would  approach  quite  near  to  look  at  me,j 
izing  intently  with  their  great  round  eyes,  then  suddenly  leapi   / 
^ide,  and  stretch  lightly  away  over  the  prairie,  as  swiftly  as  at  / 
licehorse.  Squalid,  ruffianlike  wolves  sneaked  through  the  hollows  \ 
id  sandy  ravines.   Several  times  I  passed  through  villages  of  \ 
rairie  dogs,  who  sat,  each  at  the  mouth  of  his  burrow,  holding  his 
iws  before  him  in  a  supplicating  attitude,  and  yelping  away 
)st  vehemently,  energetically  whisking  his  little  tail  with  every 
^ueaking  cry  he  uttered.  Prairie  dogs  are  not  fastidious  in  their 
ioice  of  companions ;  various  long,  checkered  snakes  were  sun- 
ig  themselves  in  the  midst  of  the  village,  and  demure  little  gray 
fh,  with  a  large  white  ring  around  each  eye,  were  perched  side 
side  with  the  rightful  inhabitants.  The  prairie  teemed  with  life. 
jain  and  again  I  looked  toward  the  crowded  hillsides,  and  was> 
kre  I  saw  horsemen ;  and  riding  near,  with  a  mixture  of  hope  and' 
fead,  for  Indians  were  abroad,  I  found  them  transformed  into  a 
Jup  of  buffalo.  There  was  nothing  in  human  shape  amid  all  this 
bt  congregation  of  brute  forms.  \ 

I  When   I   turned   down   the   buffalo   path,   the   prairie   seemed  I  j 

inged;  only  a  wolf  or  two  glided  past  at  intervals,  like  conscious  \      \    / 
Ions,  never  looking  to  the  right  or  left.  Being  now  free  from  \      \  / 
ciety,  I  was  at  leisure  to  observe  minutely  the  objects  around  me ;    \       X 
id  here,  for  the  first  time,  I  noticed  insects  wholly  different  from    \     /  \ 
ly  of  the  varieti'^s  found  farther  to  the  eastward.  Gaudy  butter-     \  /    \ 


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Thk  Orkc.on  Trail 


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fliCvS  fluttered  alwut  my  horse's  head  :  strangely  formed  beetles,  j^'ljt. 
teriti^  with  mctalhc  histcr.  were  crawHtij^  upon  plants  that  1  Ii.vJ 
never  seen  before;  multitudes  of  lizards,  too,  were  dartinj^'  lil^^j 
liphtninjj;  over  the  sand. 

I  had  run  to  a  j^reat  distance  from  the  river.  It  cost  me  a  In 
ride  on  the  bulTalo  path  before  I  saw  from  the  ridjj^e  of  a  sand-li 
the  |>ale  surface  of  the  Platte  ^listeninj^  in  the  midst  of  its  dcsmi 
valleys,  and  the  faint  outline  of  the  hills  beyond  wavinj^^  aloii^  M 
sky.  Froui  where  I  stood,  not  a  tree  nor  a  bush  nor  a  livinjj^  thiJ 
was  visible  throughout  the  whole  extent  of  the  sun-scorched  laiKjl 
scape.  In  half  an  hour  I  came  upon  the  trail,  not  far  from  the  river [ 
and  vseeing  that  the  party  had  not  yet  passed,  I  turned  eastward  til 
meet  them,  old  Pontiac's  long  swinging  trot  again  assuring  nic  tliail 
I  was  right  in  doing  so.  Having  been  slightly  ill  on  leaving  caiiifl 
in  the  morning  six  or  seven  hours  of  rough  riding  had  fatigunl  m 
extremely.    I    soon   stopi^ed,   therefore ;   flung  my   saddle  on  tli 
ground,  and  with  my  head  resting  on  it,  and  my  horse's  trail-rop 
tied  loosely  to  my  arm,  lay  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  party,  spocu 
lating  meanwhile  on  the  extent  of  the  injuries  Pontiac  had  receive 
At  length  the  white  wagon  coverings  rose  from  the  verge  of  th 
plain.  By  a  singular  coincidence,  almost  at  the  same  moment  t\d 
horsemen  appeared  coming  down  from  the  hills.  They  were  Shaij 
and  Henry,  who  had  searched  for  me  a  while  in  the  morning,  k 
well  knowing  the  futility  of  the  attempt  in  such  a  broken  countrrJ 
had  placed  themselves  on  the  top  of  the  highest  hill  they  could  fiiidF 
and  picketing  their  horses  near  them,  as  a  signal  to  me,  had  laij 
down  and  fallen  asleep.  The  stray  cattle  had  been  recovered, 
the  emigrants  told  us,  about  noon.  Before  sunset,  we  pushed  {or| 
ward  eight  miles  farther. 

June  7,  1846  — Four  men  are  missing;  R.,  Sorel  and  two  emigranti 
They  set  out  this  morning  after  buffalo,  and  have  not  yet  made  thev\ 
appearance;  whether  killed  or  lost,  we  cannot  tell. 

I  find  the  above  in  my  notebook,  and  well  remember  the  cour 
held  on  the  occasion.  Our  fire  was  the  scene  of  it ;  for  the  palpal*! 
superiority  of  Henry  Chatillon's  experience  and  skill  made  hini  tlj 
resort  of  the  whole  camp  u|K)n  every  question  of  difficulty.  He  \»i 
molding  bullets  at  the  fire,  when  the  captain  drew  near,  with] 
perturbed  and  care-worn  expression  of  countenance,  faithfully 


Tiiic  Oregon  Tkail 


65 


IciMcd  oil  the  heavy  features  of  Jack,  who  followed  close  hchind. 

Ikji  cinij^raiits  came  slra^^lin^   from  their  wapons  toward  the 

Dinmoti  center ;  various  suggestions  were  made  to  account  for  the 
^|)sciuc  ol  the  four  men,  and  one  or  'wo  of  the  emigrants  declared 
[hat  vvlu'ii  out  after  the  cattle  they  had  seen  Indians  <lo^j^inj^  them, 

11(1  cravvlinj;  like  wolves  alon^  the  ridj^es  of  the  hills.  At  this  the 

i|>taiii  slowly  shook  his  head  with  douhle  gravity,  and  solemnly 

ptnarked : 

"It's  a  serious  thinj:i^  to  he  traveling  through  this  cursed  wilder- 
ness;" .111  oi)inioii  in  which  Jack  immediately  expressed  a  thorough 

oiticideiice.    1  Icnry  would  not  commit  himself  hy  declaring  any 

ositive  opinion. 
*'.Mayhe  lie  only  follow  the  hufTalo  too  far;  mayhe  Indian  kill 

itii ;  mayhe  he  got  lost ;  I  cannot  tell !" 
With  this  the  auditors  were  t)l)liged  to  rest  content  ;  the  emi- 

raiits.  not  in  the  least  alarmed,  though  curifms  to  know  what  had 

pcotiie  of  their  comrades,  walked  hack  to  their  wagons  and  the  cap- 

lin  l)et(U)k  himself  pensively  to  his  tent.  Shaw  and  I  followed  his 

cample, 
it  will  he  a  had  thing  for  our  plans,"  said  he  as  we  entered,  "if 

K'se  fellows  don't  get  hack  safe.  The  captain  is  as  helpless  on  the 

rairie  as  a  child.  We  shall  have  to  take  him  and  his  brother  in  tow  ; 

ivy  will  hang  on  us  like  lead," 

"The  prairie  is  a  strange  ])lace,"  .said  I.  "A  month  ago  I  should 
ivc  thought  it  rather  a  startling  affair  to  have  an  acquaintance  ride 
It  in  the  morning  and  lose  his  .scalp  before  night,  but  here  it  seems 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world ;  not  that  1  believe  that  R.  has 
5t  his  yet." 
If  a  man  is  constitutionally  liable  to  nervous  apprehensions,  a 

Jiir  on  the  distant  prairies  would  prove  the  best  prescription ;  for 
Dugh  when  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  he  may 
times  find  himself  placed  in  circumstances  of  some  danger,  I 
licve  that  few  ever  breathe  that  reckless  atmos])here  without  be- 
lling almost  indifTerent  to  any  evil  chance  that  may  befall  them- 
Ivcs  or  their  friends. 

I  Shaw  had  a  propensity  for  luxurious  indulgence.  He  spread  his 
mkct  with  the  utmost  accuracy  on  the  ground,  picked  up  the 
Icks  and  stones  that  he  thought  might  interfere  with  his  comfort, 
[justed  his  saddle  to  serve  as  a  pillow,  and  composed  himself  for 


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'u. 


66 


The  Oregon  Trail 


his  night's  rest.  I  had  the  first  guard  that  evening ;  so,  takinj:^  mv 
rifle,  I  went  out  of  the  tent.  It  was  perfectly  dark.  A  brisk  winil 
blew  down  from  the  hills,  and  the  sparks  from  the  fire  were  stream- 
ing  over  the  prairie.  One  of  the  emigrants,  named  Morton,  was  iml 
companion ;  and  laying  our  rifles  on  the  grass,  we  sat  down  to- 
gether by  the  fire.  Morton  was  a  Kentuckian,  an  athletic  fellowj 
with  a  fine  intelligent  face,  and  in  his  manners  and  conversation  htl 
showed  the  essential  characteristics  of  a  gentleman.  Our  convcrsJ 
tion  turned  on  the  pioneers  of  his  gallant  native  State.  The  tlire«| 
hours  of  our  watch  dragged  away  at  last,  and  we  went  to  call  upl 
the  relief. 

R.'s  guard  succeeded  mine.  He  was  absent ;  but  the  captain,  anx-l 
ious  lest  the  camp  should  be  left  defenseless,  had  volunteered  if 
stand  in  his  place  :  so  I  went  to  wake  Kim  up.  There  was  no  occasiotl 
for  it,  for  the  captain  had  been  awake  since  nightfall.  A  fire  wJ 
blazing  outside  of  the  tent,  and  by  the  light  which  struck  throujl 
the  canvas,  I  saw  him  and  Jack  lying  on  their  backs,  with  tliei 
eyes  wide  open.  The  captain  responded  instantly  to  my  call :  \^ 
jumped  up,  seized  the  double-barreled  rifle,  and  came  out  of  tli 
tent  with  an  air  of  solemn  determination,  as  if  about  to  devotj 
himself  to  the  safety  of  the  party.  I  went  and  lay  down,  not  doubt] 
ing  that  for  the  next  three  hours  our  slumbers  would  be  guarda 
with  sufficient  vigilance. 


Chapter  VIII 
TAKING  FRENCH  LEAVE 


On  the  8th  of  June,  at  eleven  o'clock,  we  reached  the  South  Fotj 
of  the  Platte,  at  the  usual  fording  place.  For  league  upon  leagu 
the  desert  uniformity  of  the  prospect  was  almost  unbroken :  tJl 
hills  were  dotted  with  little  tufts  of  shriveled  grass,  but  l)et\vLi 
these  the  white  sand  was  glaring  in  the  sun ;  and  the  channel  of !![ 
river,  almost  on  a  level  with  the  plain,  was  but  one  great  sand-bej 
about  half  a  mile  wide.  It  was  covered  with  water,  but  so  scantif 
that  the  bottom  was  scarcely  hidden ;  for,  wide  as  it  is,  the  avera|| 
depth  of  the  Platte  does  not  at  this  point  exceed  a  foot  and  a 


The  Oregon  Trail 


67 


Stopping  near  its  bank,  we  gathered  bois  ilc  vachc,  and  made  a  meal 
of  hiitlalo  meat.  Far  off,  on  the  other  side,  was  a  green  meadow, 
w litre  we  could  see  the  white  tents  and  wagons  of  an  emigrant 
caiii]) ;  and  just  opposite  to  us  we  could  discern  a  group  of  men  and 
animals  at  the  water's  edge.  Four  or  five  horsemen  soon  entered  the 
river,  and  in  ten  minutes  had  waded  across  and  clambered  up  the 
loose  sand-bank.  They  were  ill-looking  fellows,  thin  and  swarthy, 
with  care-worn,  anxious  faces  and  lips  rigidly  compressed.  They 
liad  good  cause  for  anxiety ;  it  was  three  days  since  they  first  en- 
canii)e(l  here,  and  on  the  night  of  their  arrival  they  had  lost  123 
of  their  best  cattle,  driven  off  by  the  wolves,  through  the  neglect  of 
the  man  on  guard.  This  discouraging  and  alarming  calamity  was  not 
till'  first  that  had  overtaken  them.  Since  leaving  the  settlements, 
tliiy  had  met  with  nothing  but  misfortune.  Some  of  their  party 
liacl  (lied ;  one  man  had  been  killed  by  the  Pawnees ;  and  about  a 
week  before,  they  had  been  plundered  by  the  Dakotas  of  all  their 
best  horses,  the  wretched  animals  on  which  our  visitors  were 
mounted  being  the  only  ones  that  were  left.  They  had  encamped, 
they  told  us,  near  sunset,  by  the  side  of  the  Platte,  and  their  oxen 
were  scattered  over  the  meadow,  while  the  band  of  horses  were 
feeding  a  little  farther  off.  Suddenly  the  ridges  of  the  hills  were 
alive  with  a  swarm  of  mounted  Indians,  at  least  six  hundred  in 
number,  who,  with  a  tremendous  yell,  came  pouring  down  toward 
the  camp,  rushing  up  within  a  few  rods,  to  the  great  terror  of  the 
emigrants ;  but  suddenly  wheeling,  they  swept  around  the  band  of 
horses,  and  in  five  minutes  had  disappeared  with  their  prey  through 
the  openings  of  the  hills. 

As  these  emigrants  were  telling  their  story,  we  saw  four  other 
men  approaching.  They  proved  to  be  R.  and  his  companions,  who 
had  encountered  no  mischance  of  any  kind,  but  had  only  wandered 
too  far  in  pursuit  of  the  game.  They  said  they  had  seen  no  Indians, 
but  only  "millions  of  buffalo ;"  and  both  R.  and  Sorel  had  meat 
dangling  behind  their  saddles. 

-  The  emigrants  re-crossed  the  river,  and  we  prepared  to  follow. 
First  the  heavy  ox-wagons  plunged  down  the  bank,  and  dragged 
slowly  over  the  sand-beds ;  sometimes  the  hoofs  of  the  oxen  were 
scarcely  wetted  by  the  thin  sheet  of  water;  and  the  next  moment 
the  river  would  be  boiling  against  their  sides,  and  eddying  fiercely 
around  the  wheels.  Inch  by  inch  they  receded  from  the  shore, 


f   ! 


li  It 


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i 
i 


68 


The  Oregon  Trail 


i  '/( 

\\ 

i' 

i 

1 

1 

t 

i 

dwindling  every  moment,  until  at  length  tiM'y  seemed  to  he  float iiij; 
far  in  the  very  middle  of  the  river.  A  more  eritical  experinu  nt 
awaited  us;  for  (  lir  little  nnile-eart  was  hut  ill-fitted  for  the  pass.ii^r 
of  so  swift  a  stre.uu.  We  watehed  it  with  anxiety  till  it  seemed  tn 
l>c  a  little  motionless  white  s]>eek  in  the  midst  of  the  waters  :  and  it 
%vas  motionless,  for  it  had  stnek  fast  in  a  (juirksand.  The  littlo 
nudes  were  losing  their  footing,  the  wheels  wire  sinking  deeper 
and  deeper,  and  the  water  hegan  to  rise  through  the  hottom  and 
drench  the  goods  within.  All  of  us  who  had  remained  on  thr  h'*lur 
hank  galloped  to  tlu  -esci  th  •  men  jumpel  into  tite  water,  addiiii; 
dieir  strengt  i  to  ih.M  nc  mules,  until  hy  much  ctTort  the  cart 

was  extricated,  ar  I  aw   ,,  J  in  safety  across. 

As  we  gained  the  other  hai]  .  a  rough  grouj)  of  men  surrounded 
us.  They  were  not  rohust.  nor  large  of  frame,  yet  they  had  an  aspect 
of  hardy  endurance,  h'inding  at  home  no  .scope  for  their  fierv 
energies,  they  had  hetaken  themselves  to  the  prairie ;  and  in  thctii 
seemed  to  he  revived,  with  recKiuhled  force,  that  lierce  spirit  which 
impelled  their  ancestors,  scarce  more  lawless  than  themselves,  from 
the  CTcrnian  forests,  to  immdate  luirope  and  hreak  to  pieces  the 
Roman  empire.  A  fortnight  afterward  this  unfortunate  party 
passed  I'ort  Laramie,  while  we  were  there.  Not  one  of  their  miss- 
ing oxen  had  heen  recovered,  tho  ;h  they  had  remained  encamped 
a  week  in  search  o{  them ;  and  they  had  heen  compelled  to  ahandon 
a  great  part  of  their  haggage  and  provisions,  and  yoke  cows  and 
heifers  to  their  wagons  to  carry  them  forward  tipon  their  journey. 
the  nio&t  toilsome  and  hazardous  part  of  which  lay  stil!  he  fore 
them.  - — '-^     •' — * 

It  is  worth  noticing  that  on  the  Platte  one  may  sometimes  see 
the  shattered  wrecks  of  ancient  claw-footed  tahles,  well  waxed 
and  ri'bhed.  or  massive  bureaus  of  carved  oak.  These,  many  of 
them  no  doubt  the  relics  of  ancestral  prosperity  in  the  colonial  time, 
must  have  encountered  strange  vicissitudes.  Imported,  perhap  , 
originally  from  England ;  then,  with  the  declining  fortunes  of  their 
owners,  borne  across  the  AUeghenies  to  the  remote  wilderness  of 
Ohio  or  Kentucky ;  then  to  Illinois  or  Missouri ;  and  now  at  last 
fondly  stowed  away  in  the  family  wagon  for  the  interminable 
journey  to  C^regon.  lUit  the  stern  privations  of  the  way  are  little 
anticipated.  The  cherished  relic  is  soon  flung  out  to  scorch  and 
crack  upon  the  hot  prairie. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


69 


\Vc  rt'sumed  our  journey ;  but  wc  had  gone  scarcely  a  mile,  when 
K.  called  out  from  the  '^jar: 

"We'll  camp  here." 

"Why  do  you  wunt  to  camp?  Look  at  t!ie  sun.  It  is  not  three 
Vi(H-k  yet." 

*  We'll  camp  here!" 

i'liis  was  the  oidy  reply  vouchsafed.  Delorier  was  in  arlvance  with 
iiis  cart,  ."seeing  the  nif.le-wa^'on  wheeliii}^  from  the  track,  he  hega.i 
to  turn  his   )v. »»  team  in  the  same  direction. 

"Clo  on,  Delorier,"  and  the  little  cart  advanced  again.  As  we  rode 
oil.  we  soon  heard  the  wagon  of  our  confederates  creaking  and  jolt- 
iiij;  on  behind  us,  and  the  driver,  Wright,  discharging  a  furious 
V'liiey  of  oaths  against  his  mules ;  no  doubt  venting  pon  them  the 
wrath  which  he  dared  not  direct  against  a  more  apn'op-    .te  object. 

Sonielliing  of  this  sort  had  frecjuently  occurrr  O  .*•  English 
friend  was  by  no  means  partial  to  us,  and  we  thoi  ^i.t  .  e  discovered 
ill  his  conduct  a  deliberate  intention  to  thwart  arid  t..in(;y  us,  espe- 
cially by  retarding  the  movements  of  the  party,  ^vi  ic!  he  knew  that 
we,  being  Yankees,  were  anxious  to  quicken.  Therefore,  he  would 
iiisi.st  on  encamping  at  all  unseasonable  hours,  saying  that  fifteen 
miles  was  a  sufficient  day's  journey.  Finding  our  wishes  system- 
atically disregarded,  we  took  the  direction  of  affairs  into  our  own 
hands.  Keeping  always  in  advance,  to  the  inexpressable  indignation 
of  R.,  we  encamped  at  what  time  and  place  we  thought  proT>er,  not 
much  caring  whether  the  rest  chose  to  follow  or  not.  They  always 
(lid  so,  however,  pitching  their  tents  near  ours,  with  sullen  and 
wrathful  countenances. 

Traveling  together  on  these  agreeable  terms  did  not  suit  our 
tastes ;  for  some  time  we  had  meditated  a  separation.  The  connec- 
tion with  this  party  had  cost  us  various  delays  and  inconveniences ; 
and  the  glaring  want  of  courtesy  and  good  sense  displayed  by  their 
virtual  leader  did  not  dispose  us  to  bear  these  annoyances  with 
much  patience.  We  resolved  to  leave  camp  early  in  the  morning, 
and  push  forward  as  rapidly  as  possible  for  Fort  Laramie,  which 
we  hoped  to  reach,  by  hard  traveling,  in  four  or  five  days.  The  cap- 
tain soon  trotted  up  between  us,  and  we  explained  our  intentions. 

"A  very  extraordinary  proceeding,  upon  my  word!"  he  re- 
marked. Then  he  began  to  enlarge  upon  the  enormity  of  the  design. 
The  most  prominent  impression  in  his  mind  evidently  was  that 


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70 


The  Orkoon  TRAti, 


y 


wc  were  aeting  a  base  and  treacherous  part  in  desertinjj  his  party, 
in  what  he  considered  a  very  dangerous  sta^je  of  the  journey.  To 
j«lhate  the  atrocity  of  our  con(hict,  we  ventured  to  su^jjest  that  wc 
were  only  four  in  nuinlier  while  his  |)arty  still  included  sixteen 
men;  and  as,  moreover,  we  were  to  ^o  forward  and  they  were  to 
follow,  at  least  a  full  proportion  of  the  perils  he  apprehended  would 
» I  fall  upon  us.  Hut  the  austerity  of  the  captain's  features  would  iict 
y  relax.  "A  very  extraordinary  j)roceedinjj:,  p^entlemen  I"  and  rejH'ai- 
iu};  this,  he  nule  off  to  confer  with  his  princi|»al. 

I^y  j;ood  luck,  we  found  a  meadow  of  fresh  ^rass,  and  a  laij^'c 
pool  of  rain-water  in  the  midst  of  it.  We  encamped  here  at  sunset. 
PletUy  of  hul'lalo  skulls  were  lyinjj  around.  hleachiuK  in  the  sun; 
and  sprinkled  thickly  amon^^  the  j^rass  was  a  j^reat  variety  of 
stran);e  flowers.  1  had  nothiufj  else  to  do,  and  so  ^atherinj^  a  hand- 
ful, 1  sat  down  on  a  huiValo  skull  to  study  them.  Although  the  olT- 
spriu}^  of  a  wilderness,  their  texture  was  frail  and  delicate,  and 
their  colors  extremely  rich ;  pure  white,  dark  hlue,  and  a  trans- 
parent crimson.  C^ne  traveling  in  this  country  seldom  has  leisure  to 
think  of  anylhiuf::  hut  the  stern  features  of  the  scenery  and  its  ac- 
companiments, or  the  practical  details  of  each  day's  journey.  Like 
them,  he  and  his  thouj^hts  j::row  hard  and  rouj^h.  Hut  now  these 
tlowers  suddenly  awakened  a  train  of  associations  as  alien  to  the 
rude  scene  around  me  as  they  were  themselves ;  and  for  the  mo- 
ment my  thouj^hts  went  back  to  New  England.  A  throng  of  fair  and 
well-remembered  faces  rose,  vividly  as  life,  before  me.  "There  are 
good  things."  thought  I,  "in  the  savage  life,  but  what  can  it  oiTcr 
to  replace  those  powerful  and  enobling  influences  that  can  reach 
unim^xiired  over  more  than  three  thousand  miles  of  mountains, 
forests  and  deserts?" 

Before  sunrise  on  the  next  morning  our  tent  was  down;  we 
harnessed  our  best  horses  to  the  cart  and  left  the  camp.  Hut  first 
we  shook  hands  with  our  friends  the  emigrants,  who  sincerely 
wished  us  a  safe  journey,  though  some  others  of  the  party  mi^ht 
easily  have  been  consoled  had  we  encountered  an  Indian  war  party 
on  the  way.  The  captain  and  his  brother  were  standing  on  the  top  of 
a  hill,  wrapped  in  their  plaids,  like  spirits  of  the  mist,  keeping  an 
anxious  eye  on  the  band  of  horses  below.  We  waved  adieu  to  them 
as  we  rode  otY  the  ground.  The  captain  replied  with  a  salutation  of 
the  utmost  dignity,  which  Jack  tried  to  imitate;  but  being  little 


I 


Tiiic  ()Ri;<;oN  'I'kaii, 


71 


pr.'icticed  in  the  gestures  of  polite  .society,  his  effort  was  not  a 
very  successful  one. 

In  five  minutes  we  had  fi^ined  the  foot  of  the  hills,  hut  here  we 
came  to  a  stop.  Old  Hendrick  was  in  the  shafts,  and  heinj?  the  very 
imarnatioii  nf  |KTverse  and  hnitish  ohstinacy,  he  utterly  refused  to 
nidvc.  Delorier  lashed  and  swore  till  he  was  tired,  hut  Hendrick 
stood  like  a  rock,  ^rtiinhlinjj  to  hiniself  and  looking  askance  at  his 
ciictiiy.  initil  he  saw  a  favorahle  oj)portuiiity  to  take  his  revenge, 
wlini  he  struck  out  under  the  shaft  with  such  cool  malignity  of 
ititciition  that  I  )elorier  only  escaped  the  hlow  hy  a  sudden  skip  into 
the  air,  such  as  no  one  hut  a  I'Venchnian  could  achieve.  .Sliaw  and  he 
then  joined  forces,  and  lashed  on  hoth  sides  at  once.  The  hrute 
stood  still  for  a  while  till  he  could  hear  it  no  longer,  when  all  at  once 
lie  lu'gan  to  kick  and  plunge  till  he  threatened  the  utter  demolition 
lot  tiu'  cart  and  harness.  We  glanced  hack  at  the  camp,  which  was  in 
ftili  sight.  Our  comi)anions,  inspired  hy  emulation,  were  leveling 
Itlu'ir  tents  and  driving  in  their  cattle  and  horses. 
"Take  the  horse  out,"  said  I. 

I  took  the  saddle  from  IVmtiac  and  put  it  upon  Hendrick;  the 

Iforiiicr  was  harnessed  to  the  cart  in  an  instant.  "Avance  done!" 

cried  Delorier.  Tontiac  strode  up  the  hill,  twitching  the  little  cart 

after  him  as  if  it  were  a  feather's  weight ;  and  though,  as  we  gained 

Ithe  top,  we  saw  the  wagons  of  our  deserted  comrades  just  getting 

liiito  motion,  we  had  little  fear  that  they  could  overtake  us.  Leaving 

|tlK'  trail,  we  struck  directly  across  the  country,  and  took  the  shortest 

:iit  to  reach  the  main  stream  of  the  Platte.  A  deep  ravine  suddenly 

[intercepted  us.  We  skirted  its  sides  until  we  found  them  less  ahrupt, 

ind  then  plunged  through  the  best  way  we  could.  Passing  behind 

the  sandy  ravines  called  "Ash  Hollow,"  we  stopped  for  a  short 

iooniiij[,r  at  the  side  of  a  pool  of  rain-water ;  but  soon  resumed  our 

|('urney,  and  some  hours  before  sunset  were  descending  the  ravines 

iiul  {,'orges  opening  downward  upon  the  Platte  to  the  west  of  Ash 

luUow.  Our  horses  waded  to  the  fetlock  in  sand ;  the  sun  scorched 

ike  fire,  and  the  air  swarmed  with  sand-flies  and  mosquitoes. 

At  last  we  gained  the  Platte.  Following  it  for  about  five  miles, 
n  saw,  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking,  a  great  meadow,  dotted  with 
lundreds  of  cattle,  and  beyond  them  an  emigrant  encampment.  A 
Jarty  of  about  a  dozen  came  out  to  meet  us,  looking  upon  us  at 
irst  with  cold  and  suspicious  faces.  Seeing  four  men,  different  in 


li 


r 


t 


I« 


I'i 


72 


Tiir.  ORKdON  Thai  I, 


i:i| 


k 


i      }• 


appearance  and  oquipinctit  from  themselves,  emerRiiiK  from  thf 
hills,  they  had  t.iken  lis  for  llie  van  of  the  mneh-dreaded  Morninns 
whom  they  were  very  apprelinisive  of  encoimterin^j.  We  in.idr 
known  onr  true  character,  and  tlien  they  jjreeted  us  cor(hally.  I  luv 
expressed  much  surprise  that  so  small  a  party  should  ventific  in 
traverse  that  rcjjion.  thou^di  in  fact  such  attempts  are  not  uiiln- 
quently  made  hy  trappers  and  Indian  liaders.  We  n»de  with  llicin 
to  their  camp.  The  waj^ons.  some  liftv  in  mimher,  with  here  .iikI 
there  a  tent  intervenin^\  were  arranj;ed  as  usual  in  a  circle;  in  the 
area  within  the  nest  horses  were  picketed,  and  the  whole  circimi- 
ference  was  j^lowinj;  with  the  dusky  li^jht  of  the  tires.  (Iispla\iii|; 
the  forms  of  the  women  and  children  who  were  crowded  around 
^y  them.  This. patriarchal  scene  was  curious  and  striking;  entuigh  ;  Init 
we  made  our  escape  from  the  place  with  all  possihie  dispatch,  Unn^ 
tormented  hy  the  intrusive  curiosity  of  the  men  who  cnjwdnl 
around  us.  Yankee  curiosity  was  nothinj^  to  theirs.  They  demaiidni 
our  names,  where  we  came  from,  where  we  were  K'^hi^.  and 
what  was  our  husiness.  The  last  (juery  was  particularly  emha^  iss- 
ing ;  since  traveling  in  that  country,  or  indeed  anywhere,  from  any 
other  motive  than  gain,  was  an  idea  of  which  they  took  no  g^^ 
/  zance.  Vet  they  were  line-looking  fellows,  with  an  air  of  frankiuss^ 
^  generosity,  and  even  courtesy,  having  conic  from  one  of  the  kasl 
harbarous  of  the  frontier  counties. 

W'C  passed  about  a  mile  l>eyond  them,  and  encamped.  Being  too 
few  in  number  to  stand  guanl  without  excessive  fatigue,  we  ex- 
tinguished our  fire,  lest  it  shcnild  attract  the  notice  of  wandering 
Indians :  and  picketing  our  horses  close  around  us,  slept  uiulis- 
turbed  till  morning,  h'or  three  days  we  traveled  without  interrup- 
tion, and  on  the  evening  of  the  third  encamped  by  the  well-known 
spring  on  Scott's  BlutT. 

Henry  Chatillon  and  I  rode  out  in  the  morning,  and  descending 
the  western  side  of  the  BlulT,  were  crossing  the  plain  beyond, 
Something  that  seemed  to  me  a  file  of  buffalo  came  into  view,  de- 
scending the  hills  several  miles  before  us.  But  Henry  reined  in  his 
horse,  and  keenly  peering  across  the  prairie  with  a  better  and  more 
practiced  eye,  soon  discovered  its  real  nature.  "Indians!"  he  said. 
"Old  Smoke's  lodges,  I  b'lieve.  Come !  let  us  go !  Wah !  get  up,  now. 
Five  Hundred  Dollar !"  And  laying  on  the  lash  with  good  will,  he 
galloped  forward,  and  I  rode  by  his  side.  Not  long  after,  a  black 


The  (jRE(i()N  Tkaii. 


7i 


siMrk  hrcanic  visible  on  tlic  prairie,  full  two  miles  ofT.  It  grew 
Iitf^Mf  ami  larger;  it  assumed  the  form  of  a  man  and  horse;  and 
sdon  \\v  eonld  <liscern  a  naked  Itulian,  careeriii)^'  at  fidl  j^allop 
tdw.inl  lis.  When  within  a  fmlonj^  he  wheeled  his  horse  in  a  wide 
iiiilc.  and  made  him  <leserihe  various  mystic  fif^nres  iifMm  the 
prairie;  and  Henry  innne(liately  eompelled  l''ive  llnndred  Dollar 
to  cxcrnte  similar  ev(»lnti«)ns.  "It  is  (  >ld  Smoke's  villa^je,"  said  he, 
itilctpretinK  these  signals;  "didn't  I  say  so?" 

As  the  Indian  approat  hed  we  sto|)ped  to  wait  for  him,  when  sud- 
Idctiiy  he  vanished,  <-inkinj;,  as  it  were,  into  the  earth.  He  had  come 
U|i(in   one   of   the   deep   ravines   that    ev<'rywhere    intersect   these 
prairies.  In  an  instant  the  ron^h  head  of  his  horse  stretched  up- 
ward fronj  the  ed^e  and  the  rider  and  steed  came  scramhiinjj  out, 
land  lioinided  up  to  tis ;  a  sudden  jerk  of  the  rein  hrou^dit  the  wild 
Ipantin^'  horse  to  a  full  stop.  Then  follow(<l  the  needful  formality 
|of  shaking  hands.  I  forget  our  visitor's  name.  He  was  a  yotmg  fel- 
low, of  no  note  in  his  nation  ;  yet  in  his  person  and  e(|uij)ments  he 
/as  a  jjood  specimerLofjjJ2akuliL.warrior  in  his  orditiary  traveling 
Ircss.  Like  most  of  his  people,  he  was  nearly  six  feet  high;  lithely 
md  j^racefidly,  yet  stnMigly  proportioned;  and  with  a  skin  singu- 
brly  clear  and  delicate.  I  le  wore  no  paint ;  his  head  was  hare ;  and 
lis  Vm\i,  hair  was  gathered  in  a  dump  behind,  to  the  top  of  which 
vas  attached  transversely,  hoth  hy  w«iy  of  ornament  and  of  talis- 
liaii,  the  mystic  whistle,  made  (jf  the  winghone  of  the  war  eagle, 
m\  endowed  with  various  magic  virtues.  From  the  hack  of  his  head 
Irscctidcd  a  line  of  glittering  brass  plates,  tapering  from  the  size 
)i  a  doubloon  to  that  of  a  half-dime,  a  cumbrous  ornament,  in  high 
[roj^ue  among  tlic  IXikotas,  and  for  which  they  pay  the  traders  a 
lost  extravagant  j^ricc ;  his  chest  and  arms  were  naked,  the  bufifalo 
he,  worn  over  them  when  at  rest,  had  fallen  about  his  waist,  and 
ms  confined  theti   by  a  belt.  This,  with  the  gay  moccasins  on  his 
[eet,  completed  his  attire.  For  arms  he  carried  a  quiver  of  dog- 
kin  at  his  back,  and  a  rude  but  powerful  bow  in  his  hand.  His 
)rsc  had  no  bridle ;  a  cord  of  hair,  lashed  around  his  jaw.  served 
l)lace  of  one.  The  saddle  was  of  most  singular  construction;  it 
ras  made  of  wood  covered  with  raw  hide,  and  both  porni  lel  and 
intle  rose  perpendicularly  full  eighteen  inches,  so  that  the  war- 
for  was  wedged  firmly  in  his  seat,  whence  nothing  could  dislodge 
pni  but  the  bursting  of  the  girths. 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


Advancing  with  our  new  companion,  we  found  more  of  his 
people  seated  in  a  circle  on  the  top  of  a  hill ;  while  a  rude  proces- 
sion came  straggling  down  the  neighhoring  hollow,  men,  wotncn, 
and  children,  with  horses  dragging  the  lodge-poles  behind  them. 
All  that  morning,  as  we  moved  forward,  tall  savages  were  stalkins; 
silently  about  us.  At  noon  we  reached  Horse  Creek ;  and  as  we 
waded  through  the  shallow  water,  we  saw  a  wild  and  striking 
scene.  The  main  body  of  the  Indians  had  arrived  before  us.  On  the 
farther  bank  stood  a  large  and  strong  man,  nearly  naked,  holding  a 
white  horse  by  a  long  cord,  and  eyeing  us  as  we  approached.  This 
was  the  chief,  whom  Henry  called  "Old  Smoke."  Just  behind  him 
his  youngest  and  favorite  squaw  sat  astride  of  a  fine  mule ;  it  was 
covered  with  caparisons  of  whitened  skins,  garnished  with  blue  aivl 
white  beads,  and  fringed  with  little  ornaments  of  metal  that  tinkle] | 
with  every  movement  of  the  animal.  The  girl  had  a  light  clear  cdtr- 
plexion,  enlivened  by  a  spot  of  vermilion  on  each  check ;  shv?  smiled 
not  to  say  grinned,  upon  us,  showing  two  gleaming  rows  of  white  I 
teeth.  In  her  hand,  she  carried  the  tall  lance  of  her  unchivalroii? 
lord,  fluttering  with  feathers;  his  round  white  sliield  hung  at  i!ie| 
side  of  her  mule ;  and  his  pi[)e  was  slung  at  her  back.  Her  {lR^ 
was  a  tunic  of  deerskin,  made  beautifully  white  by  means  of  i\ 
species  of  clay  found  on  the  prairie,  and  ornamented  with  beadd 
arrayed  in  figures  more  gay  than  tasteful,  and  with  long  fringes  at 
all  the  seams.  Not  far  from  the  chief  stood  a  group  of  statelv| 
figures,  their  white  buffalo  robes  thrown  over  their  shoulders,  gaz 
\  ing  coldly  upon  us ;  and  in  the  rear,  for  several  acres,  the  grouiicl 
was  covered  with  a  temporary  encampment ;  men,  women,  anil 
children  swarmed  like  bees ;  hundreds  of  dogs,  of  all  sizes  an^l 
colors,  ran  restlessly  about;  and,  close  at  hand,  the  wide  shalluwj 
stream  was  alive  with  boys,  girls,  and  young  squaws,  splasliiiiij 
screaming,  and  laughing  in  the  water.  At  the  same  lime  a  lorJ 
train  of  emigrant  wagons  were  crossing  the  creek,  and  dragging  o'l 
in  their  slow,  heavy  procession,  passed  the  encampment  of  m 
people  whom  they  and  their  descendants,  in  the  space  of  a  centunj 
are  to  sweep  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

The  encampment  itself  was  merely  a  temporary  one  during  iN 
heat  of  the  day.  None  of  the  lodges  were  erected ;  but  thevr  hea\j 
leather  coverings,  and  the  long  poles  used  to  support  them,  wen 
scattered  everywhere  around,  among  weapons,  domestic  utensil; 


The  Oregon  Trail 


75 


and  the  rude  harness  of  mules  and  horses.  The  squaws  of  each  lazy 
warrior  had  made  him  a  shelter  from  the  sun,  by  stretching  a  few 
InifTalo  robes,  or  the  comer  of  a  lodge-covering  upon  poles;  and 
lure  he  sat  in  the  shade,  with  a  favorite  young  squaw,  perhaps, 
at  his  side,  glittering  with  all  imaginable  trinkets.  Before  hi  n  stood 
the  insignia  of  his  rank  as  a  warrior,  his  white  shield  of  bull-hide, 
his  medicine  bag,  his  bow  and  quiver,  his  lance  and  his  pipe,  raised 
aloft  on  a  tripod  of  three  poles.  Except  the  dogs,  the  most  active 
and  noisy  tenants  of  the  camp  were  the  old  women,  ugly  as  Mac- 
beth's  witches,  with  their  hair  streaming  loose  in  the  wind,  and 
nothing  but  the  tattered  fragment  of  an  old  buffalo  robe  to  hide 
their  shriveled  wiry  limbs.  The  day  of  their  favoritism  passed  two 
generations  ago;  now  the  heaviest  labors  of  the  camp  devolved 
upon  them ;  they  were  to  harness  the  horses,  pitch  the  lodges,  dress 
the  buffalo  robes,  and  bring  in  meat  for  the  hunters.  With  the 
cracked  voices  of  these  hags,  the  clamor  of  dogs,  the  shouting  and 
laughing  of  children  and  girls,  and  the  listless  tranquillity  of  the 
warriors,  the  whole  scene  had  an  effect  too  lively  and  picturesque 
ever  to  be  forgotten. 

We  stopped  not  far  from  the  Indian  camp,  and  having  invited 
some  of  the  chiefs  and  warriors  to  dinner,  placed  before  them  a 
sumptuous  repast  of  biscuit  and  coffee.  Squatted  in  a  half  circle 
on  the  ground,  they  soon  disposed  of  it.  As  we  rode  forward  on  the 
afternoon  journey,  several  of  our  late  guests  accompanied  us. 
Among  the  rest  was  a  huge  bloated  savage  of  more  than  three  hun- 
dred pounds  weight,  christened  Le  Cochon.  in  consideration  of  his 
preposterous  dimensions  and  certain  corresponding  traits  of  his 
character.  "The  Hog"  bestrode  a  little  white  pony,  scarce  able  to 
hear  up  under  the  enoimous  burden,  though,  by  way  of  keeping 
up  the  necessary  stimulus,  the  rider  kept  both  feet  in  constant  mo- 
tion, playing  alternately  against  his  ribs.  The  old  man  was  not  a 
chief ;  he  never  had  ambition  enough  to  become  one ;  he  was  not  a 
warrior  nor  a  hunter,  for  he  was  too  fat  and  lazy :  but  he  was  the 
richest  man  in  the  whole  village.  Riches  among  the  Dakotas  consist 
in  iiorses,  and  of  these  The  Hog  had  accumulated  more  than 
thirty.  He  had  already  ten  times  as  many  as  he  wanted,  yet  still  his 
appetite  for  horses  was  insatiable.  Trotting  up  to  me  he  shook  me 
hy  the  hand,  and  gave  me  to  understand  that  he  was  a  very  devoted 
friend;  and  then  he  began  a  series  of  most  earnest  signs  and 


I    I 


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I     ;  I 


76 


The  Oregon  Trail 


i 


V/  gesticulations,  his  oily  countenance  radiant  with  smiles,  and  his  lit- 

•     tie  eyes  peeping  out  with  a  cunning  twinkle  from  between  the 

masses  of  flesh  that  almost  obscured  them.  Knowing  nothing  at 

that  time  of  the  sign  language  of  the  Indians,  I  could  only  guess  at 

his  meaning.  So  I  called  on  Henry  to  explain  it. 

The  Hog,  it  seems,  was  anxious  to  conclude  a  matrimonial  bar- 
gain. He  said  he  had  a  very  pretty  daughter  in  his  lodge,  whom  he 
would  give  me,  if  I  would  give  him  my  horse.  These  flattering 
overtures  I  chose  to  reject ;  at  wh^'ch  The  Hog,  still  laughing  with 
undiminished  good  humor,  gathered  his  robe  about  his  shoulders, 
'    and  rode  away. 

Where  we  encamped  that  night,  an  arm  of  the  Platte  ran  be- 
tween high  blufifs ;  it  ^as  turbid  and  swift  as  heretofore,  but  trees 
were  growing  on  its  crumbling  banks,  and  there  was  a  nook  of 
grass  between  the  water  and  the  hill.  Just  before  entering  this  place, 
we  saw  the  emigrants  encamping  at  two  or  three  miles'  distance  on 
the  right ;  while  the  whole  Indian  rabble  were  pouring  down  the 
neighboring  hill  in  hope  of  the  same  sort  of  entertainment  which 
they  had  experienced  from  us.  In  the  savage  landscape  before  our 
camp,  nothing  but  the  rushing  of  the  Platte  broke  the  silence. 
.  Through  the  ragged  boughs  of  the  trees,  dilapidated  and  half  dead, 
we  saw  the  sun  setting  in  crimson  behind  the  peaks  of  the  Black 
Hills ;  the  restless  bosom  of  the  river  was  suffused  with  red ;  our 
white  tent  was  tinged  with  it,  and  the  sterile  bluffs,  up  to  the  rocks 
that  crowned  them,  partook  of  the  same  fiery  hue.  It  soon  passed 
away ;  no  light  remained,  but  that  from  our  fire,  blazing  high  among 
the  dusky  trees  and  bushes.  We  lay  around  it  wrapped  in  our 
blankets,  smoking  and  conversing  until  a  late  hour,  and  then  with- 
drew to  our  tent. 

We  crossed  a  sun-scorched  plain  on  the  next  morning ;  the  line 
of  old  cotton-wood  trees  that  fringed  the  bank  of  the  Platte  form- 
ing its  extreme  verge.  Nestled  apparently  close  beneath  them,  we 
could  discern  in  the  distance  something  like  a  building.  As  we  came 
nearer,  it  assumed  form  and  dimensions,  and  proved  to  be  a  rough 
structure  of  logs.  It  was  a  little  trading  fort,  belonging  to  two 
private  traders ;  and  originally  intended,  like  all  the  forts  of  the 
country,  to  form  a  hollow  square,  with  rooms  for  lodging  and 
storage  opening  upon  the  area  within.  Only  two  sides  of  it  had 
been  completed ;  the  place  was  now  as  ill-fitted  for  the  purposes  of 


ri 


The  Oregon  Trail 


17 


defense  as  any  of  those  little  log-houses,  which  upon  our  con- 
stantly shifting  frontier  have  been  so  often  successfully  maintained 
afjainst  overwhelming  odds  of  Indians.  Two  lodges  were  pitched 
close  to  the  fort ;  the  sun  beat  scorching  upon  the  logs ;  no  living 
thing  was  stirring  except  one  old  squaw,  who  thrust  her  round  head 
from  the  opening  of  the  nearest  lodge,  and  three  or  four  stout 
young  pups,  who  were  peeping  with  looks  of  eager  inquiry  from 
under  the  covering.  In  a  moment  a  door  opened,  and  a  little, 
swarthy  black-eyed  Frenchman  came  out.  His  dress  was  rather 
singular;  his  black  curling  hair  was  parted  in  the  middle  of  his 
head,  and  fell  below  his  shoulders  ;  he  wore  a  tight  frock  of  smoked 
deerskin,  very  gayly  ornamented  with  figures  worked  in  dyed  por- 
cupine quills.  His  moccasins  and  leggings  were  also  gaudily  adorned 
in  the  same  manner ;  and  the  latter  had  in  addition  a  line  of  long 
fringes,  reaching  down  the  seams.  The  small  frame  of  Richard, 
for  by  this  name  Henry  made  him  known  to  us,  was  in  the  highest 
degree  athletic  and  vigorous.  There  was  no  superfluity,  and  indeed 
there  seldom  is  among  the  active  white  men  of  this  country,  but 
every  limb  was  compact  and  hard  ;  every  sinew  had  its  full  tone  and 
elasticity,  and  the  whole  man  wore  an  air  of  mingled  hardihood 
and  buoyancy. 

Richard  committed  our  horses  to  a  Navahoe  slave,  a  mean  look- 
ing fellow  taken  prisoner  on  the  Mexican  frontier;  and,  relieving 
us  of  our  rifles  with  ready  politeness,  led  the  way  into  the  principal 
apartment  of  his  establishment.  This  was  a  room  ten  feet  square. 
The  walls  and  floor  were  of  black  mud,  and  the  roof  of  rough 
timber;  there  was  a  huge  fireplace  made  of  four  flat  rocks,  picked 
up  on  the  prairie.  An  Indian  bow  and  otter-skin  quiver,  several 
gaudy  articles  of  Rocky  Mountain  finery,  an  Indian  medicine  bag, 
and  a  pipe  and  tobacco  pouch,  garnished  the  wnlls,  and  rifles  rested 
in  a  corner.  There  was  no  furniture  except  a  sort  of  rough  settle 
covered  with  buffalo  robes,  upon  which  lolled  a  tall  half-breed, 
wit)  his  hair  glued  in  masses  upon  each  temple,  and  saturated  with 
vermilion.  Two  or  three  more  "mountain  men"  sat  cross-legged  on 
the  floor.  Their  attire  was  not  unlike  that  of  Richard  himself ;  but 
the  most  striking  figure  of  the  group  was  a  naked  Indian  boy  of 
sixteen,  with  a  handsome  face,  and  light,  active  proportions,  who 
sat  in  an  easy  posture  in  the  corner  near  the  door.  Not  one  of  his 
limbs  moved  the  breadth  of  a  hair ;  his  eye  was  fixed  immovably. 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


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not  on  any  person  present,  but,  as  it  appeared,  on  the  projecting 
corner  of  the  fireplace  opposite  to  him. 

On  these  prairies  the  custom  of  smokinjj  with  friends  is  seldom 
omitted,  whether  among  Indians  or  wl  ites.  The  pipe,  therefore, 
was  taken  from  the  wall,  and  its  great  red  bowl  crammed  with  the 
tobacco  and  slioiu/siisha,  mixed  in  suitable  proi)ortions.  Then  it 
passed  round  the  circle,  each  man  inhaling  a  few  whiffs  and  hand- 
ing it  to  his  neighlM)r.  I  laving  spent  half  an  hour  here,  we  took  our 
leave;  rtrs;  inviting  our  new  friends  to  drink  a  cup  of  coffee  with 
us  at  our  camp,  a  mile  farther  uj)  the  river,  liy  this  time,  as  the 
reader  may  conceive,  we  had  grown  rather  shabby  ;  our  clothes  h.id 
burst  into  rags  and  tatters ;  and  what  was  worse,  we  had  very  littk' 
means  of  renovation.  Kort  Laramie  was  but  seven  miles  before  us. 
Being  totally  averse  to  appearing  in  such  ])light  among  any  society 
that  could  boast  an  appro.ximation  to  the  civilized,  wc  soon  stopped 
by  the  river  to  make  our  toilet  in  the  best  way  we  could.  Wc  huiij]; 
up  small  looking-glasses  against  the  trees  and  shaved,  an  operation 
neglected  for  six  weeks ;  we  performed  our  ablutions  in  the  Platte, 
though  the  utility  of  such  a  i)roceeding  was  (|uestionable,  the  water 
looking  exactly  like  a  cup  of  chocolate,  and  the  Ixmks  consisting 
of  the  softest  and  richest  yellow  mud,  so  that  we  were  obliged,  as 
a  preliminary,  to  build  a  cause-way  of  stout  branches  and  twigs. 
Having  also  put  on  radiant  moccasins,  procured  from  a  squaw  of 
Richard's  establishment,  and  made  what  other  improvements  our 
narrow  circumstances  allowed,  wc  took  our  seats  on  the  grass  with 
a  feeling  of  greatly  increased  respectability,  to  wait  the  arrival  of 
our  guests.  They  came ;  the  banquet  was  concluded,  and  the  pipe 
smoked.  Bidding  them  adieu,  we  turned  our  horses*  heads  toward 
the  fort. 

An  hour  elapsed.  The  barren  hills  closed  across  our  front,  and 
we  could  see  no  farther ;  until  having  surmounted  them,  a  rapid 
stream  appeared  at  the  foot  of  the  descent,  running  into  the  Platte; 
bcvmd  vas  a  green  meadow,  dotted  with  bushes,  and  in  the  midst 
of  these,  rd  t\j  point  where  the  two  rivers  joined,  were  the  low  clay 
wall"  o*  a  fort.  This  was  not  Fort  Laramie,  but  another  post  of  less 
recniu  datf ,  whi-^h  having'  sunk  before  its  successful  competitor, 
was  !\'.v>v  -J^'serted  and  'uinous.  A  moment  after  the  hills,  seeming 
to  daw  c^part  as  we  advanced,  disclosed  Port  I^ramie  itself,  its 
high  hnstio;\^  and  perpendicular  walls  of  clay  crowning  an  eminence 


>  i 


The  Oregon  Trail 


79 


on  the  left  beyond  the  stream,  while  behind  stretched  a  line  of  arid 
and  desolate  ridjfcs,  and  behind  these  again,  towering  aloft  seven 
thousand  feet,  arose  the  grin".  Hlack  Hills. 

We  tried  to  ford  I^iramie  Creek  at  a  ix)int  nearly  opposite  the 
fort,  but  the  stream,  swollen  with  the  rains  in  the  mountains,  was 
I  too  raj)id.  We  passed  up  along  its  bank  to  find  a  better  crossing 
place.  Men  gathered  on  the  wall  to  look  at  us.  "There's  [Bordeaux !" 
called  Henry,  his  face  brightening  as  he  recognized  his  acquaint- 
ance ;  "him  there  with  the  spyglass ;  and  there's  old  Vaskiss,  and 
Tucker,  and  May ;  and,  by  George !  there's  Cimoneau !"  This 
Cinioneau  was  Henry's  fast  friend,  and  the  only  man  in  the  country 
[who  could  rival  him  in  hunting. 

We  soon  found  a  ford.  Henry  led  the  way,  the  pony  approaching 
[tlie  hank  with  a  countenance  of  cool  indifTerence,  bracing  his  feet 
md  sliding  into  the  stream  with  the  most  unmoved  composure. 

At  the  first  plunge  the  horse  sunk  low, 
And  the  water  broke  o'er  the  saddle-bow. 

We  foll(  wed ;  the  water  boiled  against  our  saddles,  but  our 
lorses  bore  us  easily  through.  The  unfortunate  little  mules  came 
lear  going  down  with  the  current,  cart  and  all ;  and  we  watched 
^hem  with  some  solicitude  scrambling  over  the  loose  round  stones 
It  the  bottom,  and  bracing  stoutly  against  the  stream.  All  landed 
ifely  at  last;  we  crossed  a  little  plain,  descended  a  hollow,  and 
idinj^  up  a  steep  bank  found  ourselves  before  the  gat(  vay  of  Fort 
^iraniie.  under  the  impending  blockhouse  erected  al     /e  it  to  de- 
fend the  entrance. 


M' 


i 

'                 ,    ■; 

!             ■    ; 

9 

:     1 

j 


'1^ 


!^ 


Chapter  IX 
SCENES  AT  FORT  LARAMIE 

)KiN(;  BACK,  after  the  expiration  of  a  year,  upon  Fort  Laramie 
id  its  inmates,  they  seem  less  like  a  reality  than  lilv'  some  fanci- 
il  picture  of  the  olden  time;  so  different  was  the  scene  from  any 
^hich  this  tamer  side  of  the  world  can  present.  Tall  Indians,  en- 
sloped  in  their  white  buffalo  robes,  were  striding  across  the  area 


!  ^ 


,1 


i! 


'4 


W 


i  :, 


ii'^y 


w;- 


i 


\ 


80 


Tni-:  (  )kk(;(>n   Tkaii, 


or  rrclitiinjj  at  full  IriiKth  on  thr  low  n)ofs  nf  tlir  IniildinKs  wliirh 
inclosed  it.  NutnoroMs  sipiaws.  ^\;\\\y  haU/vuvil,  sat  k**""!'"'  in 
front  «^f  tlio  apaitnKMits  tliry  orrtipird;  thrir  ntonmrl  o(T  sprim- 
rrstloss  an«l  vorifnons,  rainMiMl  in  rvorv  <lirrrtion  lliron^h  dn. 
fort;  anil  (ho  trap|uMs.  tia«KMs.  ami  rn<)a<frs  oi  \\\v  <*stal»lisliniriit 
WC1T  Intsy  at  tlu'ir  labor  or  tlu'ir  anuisnncnts. 

Wo  wore  met  at  the  f^ate.  I»ti1  l>y  no  means  eordially  welenmcl 
Inileed,  we  seenieil  ohjeels  (»f  soiiir  distrnst  and  snspicinn  imiil 
Henry  CliatilK>n  explained  that  we  were  not  traders,  and  we.  m 
conlinnati»)n.  handed  to  the  hour<fr<*is  a  letter  (»f  introdnetion  liom 
his  principals.  He  tot)k  it.  tnrned  it  upside  down,  and  tried  hard  in 
road  it  ;  hnt  his  literary  attainments  not  hein^  ade«piate  to  thr  l.isk, 
he  applied  for  relief  to  the  elerk,  a  sleek,  smilinj^  I'Venehinan, 
•lamoil  Montalon.  The  letter  read,  H<>rdeanx  (the  hourtfrois] 
seemed  jjradnally  to  awaken  to  a  sense  of  what  was  expeetrd  ni 
l\im.  riuui,i:h  lu^t  d<  iioient  in  hospitable  intentions,  he  was  wliollv 
u'laeeuston'ied  to  aet  as  master  of  ceremonies.  Hiscardinj;  all  iCr- 
malities  of  joception,  he  <lid  not  honor  ns  with  a  single  w<Md.  hut 
walked  swiftly  across  the  area,  while  we  followed  in  some  .idinira- 
i'xon  to  a  railinj;  and  a  tlij^ht  of  steps  opposite  the  entrance.  He 
sij^ned  to  us  that  we  had  better  fasten  our  horses  to  the  niilini;. 
then  he  walkec'.  up  the  steps,  tramped  aliMij;  a  rude  b.ilcony.  .ntiil 
kickinjj  ope.i  a  door  displayeil  a  large  room,  rather  more  elabor.itclj  I 
finished  than  a  barn.  Vor  furniture  it  liad  a  rouj^h  bedstea<l.  Init| 
«io  l>ed ;  two  chairs,  a  chest  of  drawers,  a  tin  pail  to  hoUl  water, 
and  a  Mard  to  cut  tobacco  upon.  A  brass  crucifix  lumit;  on  thv  wall! 
and  close  at  hand  a  recent  scalp,  with  hair  full  a  yard  lon^.  wis 
susiXMuled  from  a  nail.  1  shall  again  have  occasion  to  mention  this 
dismal  trophy,  its  history  being  connected  with  that  of  our  siil)se| 
quent  pnxxHHlings. 

This  apartment,  the  best  in  Fort  l^iramie,  was  that  usually  i^ 
cupied  by  the  legitimate  bounjcois,  Papin ;  in  whose  absence  tbl 
command  devolved  upon  Hordeaux.  The  latter,  a  stout,  blulT  littk 
fellow,  nuich  inflated  by  a  sense  of  his  new  authority,  began  tc| 
nxir  for  but^alo  rohcs.  These  being  bnnight  and  spread  upon  tlifl 
flcxir  formed  our  beds ;  much  better  ones  than  we  had  of  late  l)eei!| 
accustomed  to.  Our  arrangements  made,  we  stepped  out  to  thel 
balcony  to  take  a  more  leisurely  survey  of  the  long  looked-forl 
haven  at  which  we  had  arrived  at  last.  Beneath  us  was  the  squarfl 


"tiii 


I'liK  ( )KK<i(>N  Trail 


HI 


nuM  sUfUMimlcMl  hy  little  rooms,  or  rather  crlls,  wliirli  o|)rtirf|  npoti 
il  Tlirsr  wcrr  drvotcd  to  various  purposes,  Imt  server!  eliiefly  for 
lli(«  ;i(((tniiiio«latiou  of  the  men  empKiyeil  at  the  fort,  or  of  the 
r(|ii;illv  iinmerous  s»|iiaws,  whom  they  were  alloweil  to  maifitaiti  in 
jit  <  tjtposite  to  MS  rose  the  hlo(  khoiise  ahnve  the  j^ateway  ,  it  was 
{iddiiKil  with  a  lij^utc  which  even  nnw  haunts  my  memory;  a  horse 
{It  hill  speech  «lMnhe«|  upon  the  hoards  with  rr*!  paint,  and  «xhihit- 
jjii^r  ;i  (lejM'ee  of  skill  whi(  h  mij.;ht  tiva!  that  «lisplav«(|  hy  the  In- 
hit. Ills  in  exeentin^;  similar  designs  npnfi  their  rol«  s  and  lodges.  A 
lliiisy  srene  was  I'liattinj^  in  the  area.  I  he  waj^ons  of  Vaskiss,  an 
|()|(l  tr.'ider.  were  ahout  to  set  ntit  for  a  remote  jwist  in  the  moiin- 
It.iiiis.  and  tin*  <  anad'ans  wen*  Js'"hij4  Ihron^^di  tin-it  preparations 
Ivitli  all  possihU*  hustle,  while  here  and  there  an  Indian  st<K)f|  took- 
ftjij;  on  with  imperturl;ahle  gravity. 

I'ort  Uuauiic  is  on*'  (»f  the  posts  estahlished  hy  tlw  Afneriean 
Km  (  oinpany,  who  well  uij^h  monnpoli/*-  the  Indian  trade  of  this 
,h()le  region.  Here  tlieir  oflirials  rule  with  an  ahsohite  sway;  the 
irm  of  the  I'uited  States  has  little  force';  for  v.'n'n  we  were  there, 
the  extreme  outposts  of  her  troops  were  ahout  ;->  /en  hmnlred  miles 
1(1  the  eastward.  '1  lie  little  h»rt  is  huilt  of  hricks  dried  in  th<  smi, 
liid  externally  is  «»f  an  ohlon^  form,  with  hastions  of  clay,  in  the 
form  of  ordinary  hlockhouses.  at  two  of  the  cortiers.  The  walls  are 
ihotit  lifteeu  feet  hi^h,  and  surmounted  hy  a  sletuler  palisade.  'I  her 
roofs  of  the  apartments  within,  which  an-  huilt  close  aj^ainst  the 
/ails,  serve  the  purpose  of  a  ha!i(|uette.  Within,  the  fort  is  divided 
)y  n  partition;  on  one  side  is  the  s(|uare  area  surrounrlerl  hy  the 
^iorc-rooms,  oHices,  and  apartments  of  the  inmates;  on  the  other 
tlie  corral,  a  narrow  place,  encompassed  hy  the  hi^(h  clay  walls, 
rJK  re  at  ni^ht,  or  in  presence  of  dan^'erous  Indians,  the  horses  and 
mil(s  of  the  fort  are  crowded  for  safe-keepinj.,'.  The  main  entrance 
ias  two  irate.';,  with  an  arched  passaj^'e  intervening'.  A  little  srjuare 
midnw,  (juite  high  ahovc  the  ground,  opens  laterally  from  an  ad- 
Muiiij.;  chamher  into  this  pas.sage ;  so  that  when  the  inner  gate  is 
^loscd  and  harred,  a  jK-rson  without  may  still  hold  cf)mmunication 
nth  tlio.se  within  through  this  narrow  aj)erture.  This  cjhviates  the 
^cccssity  of  admitting  suspicious  Indians,  for  purposes  of  trading, 
ito  the  hody  of  the  fort;  for  when  danger  is  api>rehended,  the 
itKT  i;ate  is  shut  fast,  and  all  trafific  is  carried  on  hy  means  (jf  the 
ttlc  window.  This  precaution,  though  highly  necessary  at  some  of 


I 


I 


i  t 


» 


ii* 


.1    { 


:i 


S2 


Thk  Orkcon  Trail 


the  company's  posts,  is  now  seldom  resorted  to  at  Fort  Laramie; 
where,  though  men  are  frecjuently  killed  in  its  neiijhhorhood,  n,; 
apprehensions  are  now  entertained  of  any  general  designs  of  hos 
tility  from  the  Indians. 

We  did  not  long  enjoy  our  new  (juarters  undisturbed.  The  door 
was  silently  pushed  open,  and  two  eyeballs  and  a  visage  as  black  a< 
night  looked  in  upon  us;  then  a  red  arm  and  shoulder  intrudnl 
themselves,  and  a  tall  Indian,  gliding  in,  shook  us  by  tlx'  himi 
grunted  his  salutation,  and  sat  down  on  tlu*  lloor.  Others  followed, 
with  faces  of  the  natural  hue :  and  letting  fall  their  heavy  ioIrj 
f'*otu  their  shoulders,  they  took  their  seats,  (|uite  at  ease,  in  a  sniij. 
circle  before  us.  The  i)i])e  was  now  to  Ik  lighted  and  passed  nuin! 
from  one  to  another:  and  this  was  the  only  entertainment  that  at 
present  they  expected  from  us.  These  visitors  were  fathers,  bmi!, 
ers,  or  other  relatives  of  the  s(|uaws  in  the  fort,  where  they  wrr 
permitted  to  remain,  loitering  about  in  perfect  idleness.  All  tlKw 
who  smoked  with  us  were  men  of  standing  and  repute.  Two  or 
three  others  dropiK'd  in  also;  young  fellows  who  neither  by  tkir 
years  nor  their  exploits  were  entitled  to  rank  with  the  old  men  aiii 
warriors,  and  who,  abashed  in  the  presence  of  their  supeiiiir\ 
stood  aloof,  never  withdrawing  their  eyes  from  us.  Their  clucb 
were  adorned  with  vermilion,  their  ears  with  pendants  of  shell,  xi\ 
their  neck*-  with  beads.  Never  yet  having  signalized  themselves  afi 
hunters,  or  ^KM'formed  the  honorable  exploit  of  killing  a  man,  thcv 
were  held  in  slight  esteem,  and  were  diffident  and  bashful  in  i)ri> 
portion.  Certain  formidable  inconveniences  attended  this  inilu.x  o:| 
visitors.  They  were  bent  on  inspecting  everything  in  the  room ;  on- 
equipments  and  our  dress  alike  underwent  their  scrutiny:  w\ 
though  the  contrary  has  been  carelessly  asserted,  few  beings  liavt| 
more  curiosity  than  Indians  in  regard  to  subjects  within  their  or 
dinary  range  of  thougbt.  As  to  other  matters,  indeed,  they  smm:| 
utterly  inditferent.  They  will  not  trouble  themselves  to  incpiirc  im 
what  tliey  cannot  comprehend,  but  are  quite  contented  to  place  tlw:j 
hands  over  their  mouths  in  token  of  wonder,  and  exclaim  tliat!!! 
is  "great  medicine."  With  this  comjirehensive  solution,  an  Iiulir.'| 
never  is  at  a  loss.  He  never  launches  forth  into  speculation  an 
conjecture;  his  reason  moves  in  its  beaten  track.  His  soul  is  tlorl 
mant ;  and  no  exertions  of  the  missionaries,  Jesuit  or  Puritan.  o:| 
the  Old  World  or  of  the  N  w,  have  as  yet  availed  to  rouse  it. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


83 


As  wc  were  looking',  at  sunset,  from  the  wall,  upon  the  wild  and 
desolate  jilains  that  surround  the  fort,  we  observed  a  cluster  of 
straiiK'e  objects  like  scafTolds  rising  in  the  distance  ajjainst  the  red 
wt stern  sky.  They  b(>.-e  aloft  some  singular  lookinj^  burdens;  and 
at  their  foot  glimmered  something;  white  like  bf)nes.  This  was  the 
plaee  of  sejudture  of  some  Dakota  chiefs,  whose  remains  their 
people  are  fond  of  placing'  in  the  vicinity  of  the  fort,  in  the  hope 
that  tiiey  may  thus  be  protected  from  violation  at  the  hands  of  their 
eneniies.  Yet  it  has:  hapi)ene(l  more  than  once,  and  (juite  recently, 
tlial  war  parties  of  the  Crow  Indians,  ranj^injj  through  the  country, 
liave  thrown  the  bodies  from  the  scafTolds,  and  broken  them  to 
j)ieces  amid  the  yells  of  the  Dakotas,  who  remained  ])ent  up  in  the 
fort,  too  few  to  defend  the  honored  relics  from  insult.  The  white 
objects  upon  the  ground  were  buffalo  skulls,  arranged  in  the  mys- 
tic circle  commonly  seen  at  Indian  places  of  sepulture  upon  the 
j)rairie. 

Wc  soon  discovered,  in  the  twilight,  a  band  of  fifty  or  sixty 
horses  approaching  the  fort.  These  were  the  animals  belonging  to 
the  estai)Iishment ;  who  having  been  sent  out  to  feed,  under  the  care 
of  armed  guards,  in  the  meadows  below,  were  now  being  driven 
into  the  corral  for  the  night.  A  little  gate  opened  into  this  inclosure  ; 
by  the  side  of  it  stood  one  of  the  guards,  an  old  Canadian,  with  gray 
bushy  eyebrows,  and  a  dragoon  pistol  stuck  into  his  belt ;  while  his 
comrade,  mounted  on  horseback,  his  rifle  laid  across  the  saddle  in 
froiit  of  him,  and  his  long  hair  blowing  before  his  swarthy  face, 
rode  at  the  rear  of  the  disorderly  troop,  urging  them  u])  the  ascent. 
In  a  moment  the  narrow  corral  was  thronged  with  the  half -wild 
horses,  kicking,  biting,  and  crowding  restlessly  together. 

The  discordant  jingling  of  a  bell,  rung  by  a  Canadian  in  the  area, 
sutnnioned  us  to  supper.  This  sumptuous  repast  was  served  on  a 
rough  table  in  one  of  the  lower  apartments  of  the  fort,  and  con- 
sisted of  cakes  of  bread  and  dried  buffalo  meat — an  excellent  thing 
for  strengthening  the  teeth.  At  this  meal  were  seated  the  bourcjcois 
and  superior  dignitaries  of  the  establishment,  among  whom  Henry 
Cliatillon  was  worthily  included.  No  sooner  was  it  finished,  than 
the  table  was  spread  a  second  time  (the  luxury  of  bread  being 
now,  however,  omitted),  for  the  benefit  of  certain  hunters  and 
trappers  of  an  inferior  standitig;  while  the  ordinary  Canadian 
engages  were  regaled  on  dried  meat  in  one  of  their  lodging  rooms. 


I  \ 


i 


j ; 


•I 


If^ 


:M 


'    ■ 


84 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I'  i 


r  ''[ 

1  ' ' 

In 

By  way  of  illustrating  the  domestic  economy  of  Fort  Laramie,  it 
may  not  be  amiss  to  introduce  in  this  place  a  story  current  among 
the  men  when  we  were  there. 

^uC  ^  /  '^^^^^'  w^^  '^^  o'^  "^^"  named  Pierre,  whose  duty  it  was  to  brinj; 
J[^  the  meat  from  the  storeroom  for  the  men.  Old  Pierre,  in  the  kii  l- 
ness  of  his  heart,  used  to  select  the  fattest  and  the  best  pieces  for 
his  companions.  This  did  not  long  escape  the  keen-eyed  bourgeois. 
who  was  greatly  disturbed  at  such  improvidence,  and  cast  about  for 
some  means  to  stop  it.  At  last  he  hit  on  a  plan  that  exactly  suited 
him.  At  the  side  of  the  meat-room,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  clay 
partition,  was  another  compartment,  used  for  the  storage  of  furs.  It 
had  no  other  communication  with  the  fort,  except  through  a  square 
hole  in  the  partition ;  and  of  course  it  was  perfectly  dark.  One  eve- 
ning the  bourgeois,  watching  for  a  moment  when  no  one  observed 
him,  dodged  into  the  meat-room,  clambered  through  the  hole,  rind 
ensconced  himself  among  the  furs  and  buffalo  robes.  Soon  after. 
old  Pierre  came  in  with  his  lantern;  and,  muttering  to  himself, 
began  to  pull  over  the  bales  of  meat,  and  select  the  best  pieces,  as 
usual.  But  suddenly  a  hollow  and  sepulchral  voice  proceeded  from 
the  inner  apartment:  "Pierre!  Pierre!  Let  that  fat  meat  alone! 
Take  nothing  but  lean !"  Pierre  dropped  his  lantern,  and  bolted 
out  into  the  fort,  screaming,  in  an  agony  of  terror,  that  the  devil 
was  in  the  storeroom  ;  but  tripping  on  the  threshold,  he  pitched  over 
upon  the  gravel,  and  lay  senseless,  stunned  by  the  fall.  The  Cana- 
dians ran  out  to  the  rescue.  Some  lifted  the  unlucky  Pierre;  and 
others,  making  an  extempore  crucifix  out  of  two  sticks,  were  pro- 
ceeding to  attack  the  devil  in  his  stronghold,  when  the  bourgeois, 
with  a  crest-fallen  countenance,  appeared  at  the  door.  To  add  to  the 
bourgeois'  mortification,  he  was  obliged  to  explain  the  whole  strata- 
gem to  Pierre,  in  order  to  bring  the  latter  to  his  senses.   '    / 

We  were  sitting,  on  the  following  morning,  in  the  passage-way 
between  the  gates,  conversing  with  the  traders  Vaskiss  and  May. 
These  two  men,  together  with  our  sleek  friend,  the  clerk  Montalon, 
were,  I  believe,  the  only  persons  then  in  the  fort  who  could  read 
and  write.  May  was  telling  a  curious  story  about  the  traveler  Catlin. 
when  an  ugly,  diminutive  Indian,  wretchedly  mounted,  came  u\)  at 
a  gallop,  and  rode  past  us  into  the  fort.  On  being  questioned,  he 
said  that  Smoke's  village  was  close  at  hand.  Accordingly  only  a  few 
minutes  elapsed  before  the  hills  beyond  the  river  were  covered  with 


The  Oregon  Trail 


85 


a  disorderly  swarm  of  savages,  on  horseback  and  on  foot.  May 
tini>lit'd  his  story ;  and  by  that  time  the  whole  array  had  descended 
to  Iwiramie  Creek,  and  commenced  crossing  it  in  a  mass.  I  walked 
down  to  the  bank.  The  stream  is  wide,  and  was  then  between  three 
and  four  feet  deep,  with  a  very  swift  current.  For  several  rods  the 
water  was  alive  with  dogs,  horses,  and  Indians.  The  long  poles  used 
in  erecting  the  lodges  are  carried  by  the  horses,  being  fastened 
by  the  heavier  end,  two  or  three  on  each  side,  to  a  rude  sort  of  pack 
saddle,  while  the  other  end  drags  on  the  ground.  About  a  foot  be- 
hind the  horse,  a  kind  of  large  basket  or  pannier  is  suspended 
l)etwcv.'n  the  poles,  and  firmly  lashed  in  its  place.  On  the  back  of  the 
horse  are  piled  various  articles  of  luggage ;  the  basket  also  is  well 
filled  with  domestic  utensils,  or,  quite  as  often,  with  a  litter  of 
l)upi)ies,  a  brood  of  small  children,  or  a  superannuated  old  man. 
Numbers  of  these  curious  vehicles,  called,  in  the  bastard  language 
of  the  country  travaux  were  now  splashing  together  through  the 
stream.  Among  them  swam  countless  dogs,  often  burdened  with 
miniature  travaux;  and  dashing  forward  on  horseback  through  the 
throng  came  the  superbly  formed  warriors,  the  slender  figure  of 
some  lynx-eyed  boy,  clinging  fast  behind  them.  The  women  sat 
perched  on  the  pack  saddles,  adding  not  a  little  to  the  load  of  the 
already  overburdened  horses.  The  confusion  was  prodigious.  The 
(lo^'s  yelled  and  howled  in  chorus ;  the  puppies  in  the  travaux  set 
up  a  dismal  whine  as  the  water  invaded  their  comfortable  retreat ; 
the  little  black-eyed  children,  from  one  year  of  age  upward,  clung 
fast  with  both  hands  to  the  edge  of  their  basket,  and  looked  over  in 
alarm  at  the  water  rushing  so  near  them,  sputtering  and  making 
wry  mouths  as  it  splashed  against  their  faces.  Some  of  the  dogs, 
encumbered  by  their  loads,  were  carried  down  by  the  current,  yelp- 
ing piteously ;  and  the  old  squaws  would  rush  into  the  water,  seize 
their  favorite  by  the  neck,  and  drag  them  out.  As  each  horse  gained 
the  bank,  he  scrambled  up  as  he  could.  Stray  horses  and  colts 
came  among  the  rest,  often  breaking  away  at  full  speed  through 
the  crowd,  followed  by  the  old  hags,  screaming  after  their  fashion 
on  all  occasions  of  excitement.  Buxom  young  squaws,  blooming  in 
all  the  charms  of  vermilion,  stood  here  and  there  on  the  bank, 
holding  aloft  their  master's  lance,  as  a  signal  to  collect  the  scattered 
portions  of  his  household.  In  a  few  moments  the  crowd  melted 
away;  each  family,  with  its  horses  and  equipage,  filing  off  to  the 


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plain  at  the  rear  of  the  fort ;  and  here,  in  the  space  of  half  an  hour, 
arose  sixty  or  seventy  of  their  tapering  lodges.  Their  horses  were 
feeding  by  hundreds  over  the  surrounding  prairie,  and  their  dogs 
were  roaming  everywhere.  The  fort  was  full  of  men,  and  the  chil- 
dren were  whooping  and  yelling  incessantly  under  the  walls. 
J 1^  U  t'  These  newcomers  were  scarcely  arrived,  when  Bordeaux  was 
running  across  the  fort,  shouting  to  his  squaw  to  bring  him  his 
spy-glass.  The  obedient  Marie,  the  very  model  of  a  squaw,  pro- 
duced the  instrument,  and  Bordeaux  hurried  with  it  up  to  the  wall. 
Pointing  it  to  the  eastward,  he  exclaimed,  with  an  oath,  that  the 
families  were  coming.  But  a  few  moments  elapsed  before  the 
heavy  caravan  of  the  emigrant  wagons  could  be  seen,  steadily  ad- 
vancing from  the  hills.  They  gained  the  river,  and  without  turning 
or  pausing  plunged  in ;  they  passed  through,  and  slowly  ascending 
the  opposing  bank,  kept  directly  on  their  way  past  the  fort  and 
the  Indian  village,  until,  gaining  a  spot  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant, 
they  wheeled  into  a  circle.  For  some  time  our  tranquillity  was  un- 
disturbed. The  emigrants  were  preparing  their  encampment ;  but 
no  sooner  was  this  accomplished  than  Fort  Laramie  was  fairly 
taken  by  storm.  A  crowd  of  broad-brimmed  hats,  thin  visages,  and 
staring  eyes  appeared  suddenly  at  the  gate.  Tall  awkward  men.  in 
brown  homespun;  women  with  cadaverous  faces  and  long  lank 
figures  came  thronging  in  together,  and,  as  if  inspired  by  the  very 
demon  of  curiosity,  ransacked  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  fort, 
Dismayed  at  this  invasion,  we  withdrew  in  all  speed  to  our  cham- 
ber, vainly  hoping  that  it  might  prove  an  inviolable  sanctuary.  The  I 
emigrants  prosecuted  their  investigations  with  untiring  vigor.  They 
penetrated  the  rooms  or  rather  dens,  inhabited  by  the  astonished 
squaws.  They  explored  the  apartments  of  the  men,  and  even  that| 
of  Marie  and  the  bourgeois.  At  last  a  numerous  deputation  ap- 
peared at  our  door,  but  were  immediately  expelled.  Being  totally  I 
devoid  of  any  sense  of  delicacy  or  propriety,  they  seemed  resolved  | 
to  search  every  mystery  to  the  bottom.  \/  J 

Having  at  length  satisfied  their  curiosity,"  they  next  proceeded  I 
to  business.  The  men  occupied  themselves  in  procuring  supplies! 
for  their  onward  journey;  either  buying  them  with  money  or  giv- 
ing in  exchange  superfluous  articles  of  their  own. 

The  emigrants  felt  a  violent  prejudice  against  the  French  In-i 
dians,  as  they  called  the  trappers  and  traders.  They  thought,  and 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


87 


with  some  justice,  that  these  men  bore  them  no  good  will.  Many 
of  them  were  firmly  persuaded  that  the  French  were  instigating 
the  Indians  to  attack  and  cut  them  off.  On  visiting  the  encampment 
we  were  at  once  struck  with  the  extraordinary  perplexity  and  in- 
decision that  prevailed  among  the  emigrants.  They  seemed  like  men 
totally  out  of  their  elements ;  bewildered  and  amazed,  like  a  troop 
of  school-boys  lost  in  the  woods.  It  was  impossible  to  be  long 
among  them  without  being  conscious  of  the  high  and  bold  spirit  with 
which  most  of  them  were  animated.  But  the  forest  is  the  home  of 
the  backwoodsman.  On  the  remote  prairie  he  is  totally  at  a  loss. 
He  differs  much  from  the  genuine  "mountainman,"  the  wild  prairie 
hunter,  as  a  Canadian  voyageur,  paddling  hs  canoe  on  the  rapids 
of  the  Ottawa,  differs  from  an  American  sailor  among  the  storms 
of  Cape  Horn.  Still  my  companion  and  I  were  somewhat  at  a  loss 
to  account  for  this  perturbed  state  of  mind.  It  could  not  be  cow- 
ardice; these  men  were  of  the  same  stock  with  the  volunteers  of 
Monterey  and  Buena  Vista.  Yet,  for  the  most  part,  they  were  the 
rudest  and  most  ignorant  of  the  frontier  population;  they  knew 
absolutely  nothing  of  the  country  and  its  inhabitants ;  they  had 
[already  experienced  much  misfortune,  and  apprehended  more; 
they  had  seen  nothing  of  mankind,  and  had  never  put  their  own 
1  resources  to  the  test. 

A  full  proportion  of  suspicion  fell  upon  us.  Being  strangers  we 
[were  looked  upon  as  enemies.  Having  occasion  for  a  supply  of  lead 
and  a  few  other  necessary  articles,  we  used  to  go  over  to  the  emi- 
grant camps  to  obtain  them.  After  some  hesitation,  some  dubious 
[glances,  and  fumbling  of  the  hands  in  the  pockets,  the  terms  would 
Ibe  agreed  upon,  the  price  tendered,  and  the  emigrant  would  go  off 
|to  bring  the  article  in  question.  After  waiting  until  our  patience 
?ave  out,  we  would  go  in  search  of  him,  and  find  him  seated  on  the 
tongue  of  his  wagon. 

"Well,  stranger,"  he  would  observe,  as  he  saw  us  approach,  "I 
reckon  I  won't  trade  !" 

Some  friend  of  his  followed  him  from  the  scene  of  the  bargain 
ind  suggested  in  his  ear,  that  clearly  we  meant  to  cheat  him,  and 
le  had  better  have  nothing  to  do  with  us. 

This  timorous  mood  of  the  emigrants  was  doubly  unfortunate, 
is  it  exposed  them  to  real  danger.  Assume,  in  the  presence  of  In- 
lians  a  bold  bearing,  self-confident  yet  vigilant,  and  you  will  find 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


them  tolerably  safe  neighbors.  But  your  ^^afety  depends  on  the  re- 
spect and  fear  you  are  able  to  inspire.  If  you  betray  timidity  or 
indecision,  you  convert  them  from  that  moment  into  insidious  and 
dangerous  enemies.  The  Dakotas  saw  clearly  enough  the  pertur- 
bation of  the  emigrants  and  instantly  availed  themselves  of  it. 
They  became  extremely  insolent  and  exacting  in  their  demands.  It 
has  become  an  established  custom  with  them  to  go  to  the  camp  of 
every  party,  as  it  arrives  in  succession  at  the  fort,  and  demand  a 
feast.  Smoke's  village  had  come  with  the  express  design,  having 
made  several  days'  journey  with  no  other  object  than  that  of  en- 
joying a  cup  of  coffee  and  two  or  three  biscuits.  So  the  "feast"  was 
demanded,  and  the  emigrants  dared  not  refuse  it. 
.  One  evening,  about  sunset,  the  village  was  deserted.  We  met 
old  men,  warriors,  squaws,  and  children  in  gay  attire,  trooping  ott 
to  the  encampment,  with  faces  of  anticipation ;  and,  arriving  here, 
they  seated  themselves  in  a  semicircle.  Smoke  occupied  the  center, 
with  his  warriors  on  either  hand;  the  young  men  and  boys  next 
succeeded,  and  the  squaws  and  children  formed  the  horns  of  the 
crescent.  The  biscuit  and  coffee  were  most  promptly  dispatched, 
the  emigrants  staring  open-mouthed  at  their  savage  guests.  With 
each  new  emigrant  party  that  arrived  at  Fort  LaramJe  this  scene 
was  renewed ;  and  every  day  the  Indians  grew  more  rapacious  and 
presumptuous.  One  evening  they  broke  to  pieces,  out  of  mere  wan- 
tonness, the  cups  from  which  they  had  been  feasted ;  and  this  so 
exasperated  the  emigrants  that  many  of  them  seized  their  rifles  and 
could  scarcely  be  restrained  from  firing  on  the  insolent  mob  of 
Indians.  Before  we  left  the  country  this  dangerous  spirit  on  the 
part  of  the  Dakota  had  mounted  to  a  yet  higher  pitch.  They  began 
openly  to  threaten  the  emigrants  with  destruction,  and  actually 
fired  upon  one  or  two  parties  of  whites.  A  military  force  and  mil- 
V^  itary  law  are  urgently  called  for  in  that  perilous  region ;  and  unless 
troops  are  speedily  stationed  at  Fort  Laramie,  or  elsewhere  in  the 
neighborhood,  both  the  emigrants  and  other  travelers  will  be  ex- 
posed to  most  imminent  risks. 

The  Ogallalla,  the  Brules,  and  other  western  bands  of  the  Dakota, 
are  thorough  savages,  unchanged  by  any  contact  with  civilization, 
Not  one  of  them  can  speak  an  European  tongue,  or  has  ever  visited 
an  American  settlement.  Until  within  a  year  or  two,  when  tlie| 
emigrants  began  to  pass  through  their  country  on  the  way  to  Ore- 


The  Oregon  Trail 


89 


gon,  they  had  seen  no  whites  except  the  handful  employed  about 
the  Fur  Company's  posts.  They  esteemed  them  a  wise  people,  in- 
'ferior  only  to  themselves,  living  in  leather  lodges,  like  their  own, 
and  subsisting  on  buffalo.  But  when  the  swarm  of  Meneaska,  with 
their  oxen  and  wagons,  began  to  invade  them,  their  astonishment 
was  unbounded.  They  could  scarcely  believe  that  the  earth  con- 
tained such  a  multitude  of  white  men.  Their  wonder  is  now  giving 
way  to  indignation ;  and  the  result,  unless  vigilantly  guarded 
against,  may  be  lamentable  in  the  extreme. 

But  to  glance  at  the  interior  of  a  lodge.  Shaw  and  I  used  often 
to  visit  them.  Indeed,  we  spent  most  of  our  evenings  in  the  Indian 
village;  Shaw's  assumption  of  the  medical  character  giving  us  a 
fair  pretext.  As  a  sample  of  the  rest  I  will  describe  one  of  these  'J 
visits.  The  sun  had  just  set,  and  the  horses  were  driven  into  the 
corral.  The  Prairie  Cock,  a  noted  beau,  came  in  at  the  gate  with  a 
bevy  of  young  girls,  with  whom  he  began  to  dance  in  the  area, 
leading  them  round  and  round  in  a  circle,  while  he  jerked  up  from 
his  chest  a  succession  of  monotonous  sounds,  to  which  they  kept 
time  in  a  rueful  chant.  Outside  the  gate  boys  and  young  men  were 
idly  frolicking;  and  close  by,  looking  grimly  upon  them,  stood  a 
warrior  in  his  robe,  with  his  face  painted  jet-black,  in  token  that 
he  had  lately  taken  a  Pawnee  scalp.  Passing  these,  the  tall  dark 
lodges  rose  between  us  and  the  red  western  sky.  We  repaired  at 
once  to  the  lodge  of  Old  Smoke  himself.  It  was  by  no  means  bet- 
ter than  the  others ;  indeed,  it  was  rather  shabby ;  for  in  this  demo- 
cratic community,  the  chief  never  assumes  superior  state.  Smoke 
sat  cross-legged  on  a  buffalo  robe,  and  his  grunt  of  salutation  as 
j  we  entered  was  unusually  cordial,  out  of  respect  no  doubt  to  Shaw's 
medical  character.  Seated  around  the  lodge  were  several  squaws, 
and  an  abundance  of  children.  The  complaint  of  Shaw's  patients 
was,  for  the  most  part,  a  severe  inflammation  of  the  eyes,  occa- 
sioned by  exposure  to  the  sun,  a  species  of  disorder  which  he 
treated  with  some  success.  He  had  brought  with  him  a  homeopathic 
medicine  chest,  and  was,  I  presume,  the  first  who  introduced  that 
harmless  system  of  treatment  among  the  Ogallalla.  No  sooner  had 
a  robe  been  spread  at  the  head  of  the  lodge  for  our  accommodation, 
and  we  had  seated  ourselves  upon  it,  than  a  patient  made  her  ap- 
Ipearance ;  the  chief's  daughter  herself,  who,  to  do  her  justice,  was 
[the  best-looking  girl  in  the  village.  Being  on  excellent  terms  with 


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The  O  lEGON  Trail 


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the  physician,  she  placed  herself  readily  under  his  hands,  and 
submitted  with  a  good  grace  to  his  applications,  laughing  in  his 
face  during  the  whole  process,  for  a  squaw  hardly  knows  how  to 
smile.  This  case  dispatched,  another  of  a  different  kind  succeeded. 
A  hideous,  emaciated  old  woman  sat  in  the  darkest  corner  of  the 
lodge  rocking  to  and  fro  with  pain  and  hiding  her  eyes  from  the 
light  by  pressing  the  palms  of  both  hands  against  her  face.  At 
Smoke's  command,  she  came  forward,  very  unwillingly,  and  ex- 
hibited a  pair  of  eyes  that  had  nearly  disappeared  from  excess  of 
inflammation.  No  sooner  had  the  doctor  fastened  his  gripe  upon 
her  than  she  set  up  a  dismal  moaning,  and  writhed  so  in  his  grasp 
that  he  lost  all  patience,  but  being  resolved  to  carry  his  point,  he 
succeeded  at  last  in  applying  his  favorite  remedies. 

**It  is  strange,"  he  said,  when  the  operation  was  finished,  "that 
I  forgot  to  bring  any  Spanish  flies  with  me ;  we  must  have  some- 
thing here  to  answer  for  a  counter-irritant !" 

So,  in  the  absence  of  better,  he  seized  upon  a  red-hot  brand  from 
the  fire,  and  clapped  it  against  the  temple  of  the  old  squaw,  who  set 
up  an  unearthly  howl,  at  which  the  rest  of  the  family  broke  out 
into  a  laugh. 

During  these  medical  operations  Smoke's  eldest  squaw  entered'! 
the  lodge,  with  a  sort  of  stone  mallet  in  her  hand.  I  had  observed 
some  time  before  a  litter  of  well-grown  black  puppies,  comfortably 
nestled  among  some  buffalo  robes  at  one  side ;  but  this  newcomer 
speedily  disturbed  their  enjoyment ;  for  seizing  one  of  them  by  the 
hind  paw,  she  dragged  him  out,  and  carrying  him  to  the  entrance  of 
the  lodge,  hammered  him  on  the  head  till  she  killed  him.  Being 
quite  conscious  to  what  this  preparation  tended,  I  looked  through 
a  hole  in  the  back  of  the  lodge  to  see  the  next  steps  of  the  process,  i 
The  squaw,  holding  the  puppy  by  the  legs,  was  swinging  him  to  | 
and  fro  through  the  blaze  of  a  fire,  until  the  hair  was  singed  off, 
This  done,  she  unsheathed  her  knife  and  cut  him  into  small  pieces, 
which  she  dropped  into  a  kettle  to  boil.  In  a  few  moments  a  large  | 
wooden  dish  was  set  before  us,  filled  with  this  delicate  preparation. 
We  felt  conscious  of  the  honor.  A  dog-feast  is  the  greatest  com- 
pliment a  Dakota  can  offer  to  his  guest ;  and  knowing  that  to  refuse  I 
eating  would  be  an  affront,  we  attacked  the  little  dog  and  devoured] 
him  before  the  eyes  of  his  unconscious  parent.  Smoke  in  the  mean- 
time was  preparing  his  great  pipe.  It  was  lighted  when  we  had 


The  Oregon  Trail 


91 


finished  our  repast,  and  we  passed  it  from  one  to  another  till  the 
bowl  was  empty.  This  done,  we  took  our  leave  without  further 
ceremony,  knocked  at  the  gate  of  the  fort,  and  after  making  our- 
selves known  were  admitted. 

One  morning,  about  a  week  after  reaching  Fort  Laramie,  we 
were  holding  our  customary  Indian  levee,  when  a  bustle  in  the 
area  below  announced  a  new  arrival ;  and  looking  down  from  our 
balcony,  I  saw  a  familiar  red  beard  and  mustache  in  the  gateway. 
They  belonged  to  the  captain,  who  with  his  party  had  just  crossed 
the  stream.  We  met  him  on  the  stairs  as  he  came  up,  and  congratu- 
lated him  on  the  safe  arrival  of  himself  and  his  devoted  compan- 
ions. But  he  remembered  our  treachery,  and  was  grave  and  dig- 
nified accordingly ;  a  tendency  which  increased  as  he  observed  on 
our  part  a  disposition  to  laugh  at  him.  After  remaining  an  hour 
or  two  at  the  fort  he  rode  away  with  his  friends,  and  we  have 
heard  nothing  of  him  since.  As  for  R.,  he  kept  carefully  aloof.  It 
was  but  too  evident  that  we  had  the  unhappiness  to  have  forfeited 
the  kind  regards  of  our  London  fellow-traveler. 


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Chapter  X 
THE  WAR  PARTIES 

The  summer  of  1846  was  a  season  of  much  warlike  excitement 
among  all  the  western  bands  of  the  Dakota.  In  1845  they  encoun- 
tered great  reverses.  Many  war  parties  had  been  sent  out;  some 
of  them  had  been  totally  cut  off,  and  others  had  returned  broken 
and  disheartened,  so  that  the  whole  nation  was  in  mourning. 
Among  the  rest,  ten  warriors  had  gone  to  the  Snake  country,  led 
by  the  son  of  a  prominent  Ogallalla  chief,  called  The  Whirlwind. 
In  passing  over  Laramie  Plains  they  encountered  a  superior  num- 
ber of  their  enemies,  were  surrounded,  and  killed  to  a  man.  Having 
performed  this  exploit  the  Snakes  became  alarmed,  dreading  the 
resentment  of  the  Dakota,  and  they  hastened  therefore  to  signify 
I  their  wish  for  peace  by  sending  the  scalp  of  the  slain  partisan, 
[together  with  a  small  parcel  of  tobacco  attached,  to  his  tribesmen 
and  relations.  They  had  employed  old  Vaskiss,  the  trader,  as  their 


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The  Orecon  Trail 


Y 


niessenp^cr,  and  llio  scalp  was  the  same  that  lump  in  our  room  at  the 
fort.  I»ut  The  Whirlwind  proved  inexorahle.  Thouj^h  his  character 
hardly  corresu<)n(!s  with  his  name,  he  is  nevertheless  an  Indian, 
and  hates  th<  Snakes  with  his  whole  soul.  Lonj^j  he  fore  the  scalp 
arrived  he  h.-ul  made  his  i)re])arations  for  revenge.  He  sent  mes- 
sengers with  presents  and  tohacco  to  all  the  Dakota  within  three 
hundred  miles,  proposing  a  grand  comhination  to  chastise  the 
Snakes,  and  naming  a  ])lace  and  time  of  rendezvous.  The  plan  was 
readily  adopted  and  at  this  moment  many  villages,  prohably  cm- 
bracing  in  the  whole  five  or  six  thousand  souls,  were  slowly  creep- 
ing over  the  prairies  and  tending  towards  the  common  center  at 
I^  Bonte's  Camp, 'on  the  Platte.  Here  their  warlike  rites  were  to 
be  celebrated  with'  more  than  ordinary  solemnity,  and  a  thousand 
warriors,  as  it  was  said,  were  to  set  out  for  the  enemy  country.  The 
characteristic  result  of  this  preparation  will  appear  in  the  sequel. 

I  was  greatly  rejoiced  to  hear  of  it.  I  had  come  into  the  country 
almost  exclusively  with  a  view  of  observing  the  Indian  character, 
Having  from  childhood  felt  a  curiosity  on  this  sul^ject,  and  having 
failed  completely  to  gratify  it  by  reading,  I  resolved  to  have  re- 
course to  observation.  I  wished  to  satisfy  myself  with  regard  to  the 
position  of  the  Indians  among  the  races  of  men ;  the  vices  and  the 
v^'  ^es  that  have  sprung  from  their  innate  character  and  from  their 
I  jes  of  hfe.  their  government,  their  superstitions,  and  their 
domestic  situation.  To  accomplish  my  purpose  it  was  necessary  to 
live  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  become,  as  it  were,  one  of  them.  I 
proposed  to  join  a  village  and  make  myself  an  inmate  of  one  of 
their  lodges ;  and  henceforward  this  narrative,  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, will  be  chiefly  a  record  of  the  progress  of  this  design  ap- 
parently so  easy  of  accomplishment,  and  the  unexpected  impedi- 
ments that  opposed  it. 

We  resolved  on  no  account  to  miss  the  rendezvous  at  La  Bonte's 
Camp.  Our  plan  was  to  leave  Delorier  at  the  fort,  in  charge  of  our 
equipage  and  the  better  part  of  our  horses,  while  we  took  with  us 
nothing  but  our  weapons  and  the  worst  animals  we  had.  In  all 
probability  jealousies  and  quarrels  would  arise  among  so  many 
hordes  of  fierce  impulsive  savages,  congregated  together  under  no 
common  head,  and  many  of  them  strangers,  from  remote  prairies 
and  mountains.  We  were  bound  in  common  prudence  to  be  cau- 
tious how  we  excited  any  feeling  of  cupiditx«.Xhis  was  our  plan,! 


The  Oregon  Trail 


93 


but  unhappily  we  were  not  destined  to  visit  I^  Bonte's  Camp  in 
tliis  manner ;  for  one  morninjj  a  yoiinp  Indian  came  to  the  fort  and 
hrouglit  us  evil  tidinj^s.  The  newcomer  was  a  dandy  of  the  first 
vvator.  His  uj^ly  face  was  painted  with  vermilion ;  on  his  head  flut- 
tered the  tail  of  a  prairie  cock  (a  large  species  of  pheasant,  not 
found,  as  I  have  heard,  eastward  of  the  Rocky  Mountains)  ;  in  his 
ears  were  hunpf  pendants  of  shell,  and  a  flaming  red  blanket  was 
wrap[)ed  around  him.  He  carried  a  dragoon  sword  in  his  hand, 
ciy  for  display,  since  the  knife,  the  arrow,  and  the  rifle  are  the 


so 


arbiters  of  every  prairie  fight ;  but  no  one  in  this  country  goes 
al)road  unarmed,  the  dandy  carried  a  bow  and  arrows  in  an  otter- 
skin  quiver  at  his  back.  In  this  guise,  and  bestriding  his  yellow 
horse  with  an  air  of  extreme  dignity,  The  Horse,  for  that  was  his 
name,  rode  in  at  the  gate,  turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left, 
but  casting  glances  askance  at  the  groups  of  s(|uaws  who,  with 
their  mongrel  progeny,  were  sitting  in  the  sun  l)efore  their  doors. 
The  evil  tidings  brought  by  The  Horse  were  of  the  following  im- 
port :  The  squaw  of  Henry  Chatillon,  a  woman  with  whom  he  had 
been  connected  for  years  by  the  strongest  ties  which  in  that  country 
exist  between  the  sexes,  was  dangerously  ill.  She  and  her  children 
were  in  the  village  of  The  Whirlwind,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  days' 
journey.  Henry  was  anxious  to  see  the  woman  before  she  died,  and 
provide  for  the  safety  and  support  of  his  children,  of  whom  he 
was  extremely  fond.  To  have  refused  him  this  would  have  been 
gross  inhumanity.  We  abandoned  our  plan  of  joining  Smoke's  vil- 
lage, and  of  proceeding  with  it  to  the  rendezvous,  and  determined 
to  ineet  The  Whirlwind,  and  go  in  his  company. 

I  had  been  slightly  ill  for  several  weeks,  but  on  the  third  night 
after  reaching  Fort  Laramie  it  violent  pain  awoke  me,  and  I  found 
myself  attacked  by  the  same  disorder  that  occasioned  such  heavy 
losses  to  the  army  on  the  Rio  Grande.  In  a  day  and  a  half  I  was 
reduced  to  extreme  weakness,  so  that  I  could  not  walk  without  pain 
and  effort.  Having  within  that  time  taken  six  grains  of  opium, 
without  the  least  beneficial  effect,  and  having  no  medical  adviser, 
nor  any  choice  of  diet,  I  resolved  to  throw  myself  upon  Providence 
for  recovery,  using,  without  regard  to  the  disorder,  any  portion  of 
strength  that  might  remain  to  me.  So  on  the  20th  of  June  we  set 
out  from  Fort  Laramie  to  meet  The  Whirlwind's  village.  Though 
[aided  by  the  high-bowed  "mountain  saddle,"  I  could  scarcely  keep 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


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my  seat  on  horseback.  Before  we  left  the  fort  we  hired  another  man, 
a  long-haired  Canadiah,  with  a  face  like  an  owl's,  contrasting  nddlv 
\^  enough  with  Delorier's^  mercurial  countenance.  This  was  not  the 
/  only  re-enforcement  to  our  party.  A  vagrant  Indian  trader,  named 
Reynal,  joined  us,  together  with  his  sijuaw  Margot,  and  her  two 
nephews,  our  dandy  friend,  The  Horse,  and  his  younger  brother, 
The  Hail  Storm.  Thus  accompanied,  we  betook  ourselves  to  the 
prairie,  leaving  the  beaten  trail  and  passing  over  the  desolate  hills 
that  flank  the  bottoms  of  Laramie  Creek.  In  all,  Indians  and  whites, 
we  counted  eight  men  and  one  woman.  --• 

/  *  Reynal,  the  trader,  the  image  of  sleek  and  selfish  complacency, 
«  carried  The  Horse's  dragoon  sword  in  his  hand,  delighting  ap- 
parently in  this  useless  parade ;  for,  from  spending  half  his  life 
among  Indians,  he  had  caught  not  only  their  habits  but  their 
ideas.  Margot,  a  female  animal  of  more  than  two  hundred  pounds' 
weight,  was  couched  in  the  basket  of  a  travail,  such  as  I  have  be- 
fore described ;  besides  her  ponderous  bulk,  various  domestic 
utensils  were  attached  to  the  vehicle,  and  she  was  leading  by  a 
trail-rope  a  packhorse,  who  carried  the  covering  of  Reynal's  lodge. 
Delorier  walked  briskly  by  the  side  of  the  cart,  and  Raymond  came 
behind,  swearing  at  the  spare  horses,  which  it  was  his  business  to 
drive.  The  restless  young  Indians,  their  quivers  at  their  backs,  and 
their  bows  in  their  hand,  galloped  over  the  hills,  often  starting  a 
wolf  or  an  antelope  from  the  thick  growth  of  wild-sage  bushes. 
Shaw  and  I  were  in  keeping  with  the  rest  of  the  rude  cavalcade, 
having  in  the  absence  of  other  clothing  adopted  the  buckskin  attire 
of  the  trappers.  Henry  Chatillon  rode  in  advance  of  the  whole. 
Thus  we  passed  hill  after  hill  and  hollow  after  hollow,  a  country 
arid,  broken  and  so  parched  by  the  sun  that  none  of  the  plants 
familiar  to  our  more  favored  soil  would  flourish  upon  it,  though 
there  were  multitudes  of  strange  medicinal  herbs,  more  especially 
the  absanth,  which  covered  every  declivity,  and  cacti  were  hang- 
ing like  reptiles  at  the  edges  of  every  ravine.  At  length  we  as- 
cended a  high  hill,  our  horses  treading  upon  pebbles  of  flint,  agate, 
and  rough  jasper,  until,  gaining  the  top,  we  looked  down  on  the 
wild  bottoms  of  Laramie  Creek,  which  far  below  us  wound  like  a 
writhing  snake  from  side  to  side  of  the  narrow  interval,  amid  a 
growth  of  shattered  cotton-wood  and  ash  trees.  Lines  of  tall  cliffs, 
white  as  chalk,  shut  in  this  green  strip  of  woods  and  meadow  land,  j 

I 


The  Oregon  Trail 


95 


into  which  we  descended  and  encamped  for  the  nipht.  In  the  morn- 
ing' we  ]iasscd  a  wide  j^rassy  plain  by  the  river;  there  was  a  j^rove 
in  front,  and  beneath  its  shadows  the  ruins  of  an  old  trading  fort 
of  io.i^'S.  The  prove  bloomed  with  myriads  of  wild  roses,  with  their 
j.\vcTt  perfume  fraui,dit  with  recollections  of  home.  As  we  emerged 
from  the  trees,  a  rattlesnake,  as  large  as  a  man's  arm,  and  more 
than  four  feet  long,  lay  coiled  on  a  rock,  fiercely  rattling  and  hiss- 
\\n^  at  us;  a  gray  hare,  double  the  size  of  those  in  New  ICngland, 
jkajK'd  up  from  the  tall  ferns;  curlew  were  screaming  over  our 
heads,  and  a  whole  host  of  little  prairie  dogs  sat  yelping  at  us  at 
the  mouths  of  their  burrows  on  the  dry  plain  beyond.  Suddenly 
an  antelope  leaped  i\\)  from  the  wild-sage  bushes,  gazed  eagerly 
at  us.  and  then,  erecting  his  white  tail,  stretched  away  like  a  grey- 
hound. The  two  Indian  boy«  found  a  white  woK,  as  large  as  a  calf 
[in  a  hollow,  and  giving  a  sharp  yell,  they  galloped  after  him;  but 
[the  wolf  leaped  into  the ''stream  and  swam  across.  Then  came  the 
Icrack  of  a  rifle,  the  bullet  whistling  harmlessly  over  his  head,  as 
Ihe  scrambled  up  the  sireep  declivity,  rattling  dovkm  stones  and  earth 
|into  the  water  below.  Advancing  a  little,  welbeheld  on  the  farther 
)ank  of  the  stream,  a  spectacle  not  common  even  in  that  region ; 
for,  emerging  from  among  the  trees,  a  herd  of  some  two  hundred 
;lk  came  out  upon  the  meadow,  their  antlers  clattering  as  they 
/alked  forward  in  dense  throng.  Seeing  us,  they  broke  into  a  run, 
rushing  across  the  opening  and  disappearing  among  the  trees  and 
scattered  groves.  On  our  left  was  a  barren  prairie,  stretching  to 
^he  horizon;  on  our  right,  a  deep  gulf,  with  Laramie  Creek  at  the 
)ottom.  We  found  ourselves  at  length  at  the  edge  of  a  steep  de- 
scent; a  narrow  valley,  with  long  rank  grass  and  scattered  trees 
Stretching  before  us  for  a  mile  or  more  along  the  course  of  the 
peam.  Reaching  the  farther  end,  we  stopped  and  encamped.  An 
|)ld  huge  cotton-wood  tree  spread  its  branches  horizontally  over 
|>ur  tent.  Laramie  Creek,  circling  before  our  camp,  half  inclosed 
is;  it  swept  along  the  bottom  of  a  line  of  tall  white  cliffs  that 
)okcd  down  on  us  from  the  farther  bank.  There  were  dense  copses 
^n  our  right ;  the  cliffs,  too,  were  half  hidden  by  shrubbery,  though 
-hind  us  a  few  cotton-wood  trees,  dotting  the  green  prairie,  alone 
ipeded  the  view,  and  friend  or  enemy  could  be  discerned  in  that 
"ection  at  a  mile's  distance.  Here  we  resolved  to  remain  and 
^vait  the  arrival  of  The  Whirlwind,  who  would  certainly  pass  this 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


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way  in  his  progress  toward  La  Bonte's  Camp.  To  go  in  search  of 
him  was  not  expedient,  both  on  account  of  the  broken  and  im- 
practicable  nature  of  the  country  and  the  uncertainty  of  his  posi- 
tion  and  movements ;  besides,  our  horses  were  almost  worn  out, 
and  I  was  in  no  condition *to  travel.  We  had  good  grass,  good  water, 
tolerable  fish  from  the  stream,  and  plenty  of  smaller  game,  such  as 
antelope  and  deer,  though  no  bufifalo.  There  was  one  little  draw- 
back  to  our  satisfaction — a  certain  extensive  tract  of  bushes  and 
dried  grass,  just  Ixihind  us,  which  it  was  by  no  means  advisable  to 
enter,  since  it  sheltered  a  numerous  brood  of  rattlesnakes.  Henry 
Chatillon  again  dispatched  The  Horse  to  the  village,  with  a  mes- 
sage to  his  squaw  that  she  and  her  relatives  should  leave  the  rest 
and  push  on  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  our  camp. 

Our  daily  routine  soon  became  as  regular  as  that  of  a  well- 
ordered  household.  The  weather-beaten  old  tree  was  in  the  center; 
our  rifles  generally  rested  against  its  vast  trunk,  and  our  saddles 
were  flung  on  the  ground  around  it ;  its  distorted  roots  were  so 
twisted  as  to  form  one  or  two  convenient  arm-chairs,  where  we 
could  sit  in  the  shade  and  read  or  smoke ;  but  meal-times  became, 
on  the  whole,  the  most  interesting  hours  of  the  day,  and  a  boun- 
tiful provision  was  made  for  them.  An  antelope  or  a  deer  usually 
swung  from  a  stout  bough,  and  haunches  were  suspended  against 
the  trunk.  That  camp  is  daguerreotyped  on  my  memory;  the  old 
/.,  tree,  the  white  tent,  with  Shaw  sleeping  in  the  shadow  of  it,  and 
Reynal's  miserable  lodge  close  by  the  bank  of  the  stream.  It  was 
a  wretched  oven-shaped  structure,  made  of  begrimed  and  tattered 
buffalo  hides  stretched  over  a  frame  of  poles ;  one  side  was  open, 
and  at  the  side  of  the  opening  hung  the  powder  horn  and  bullet 
pouch  of  the  owner,  together  with  his  long  red  pipe,  and  a  rich 
quiver  of  otter-skin,  with  a  bow  and  arrows ;  for  Reynal,  an  Indian 
in  most  tkings  but  color,  chose  to  hunt  buffalo  with  these  primitive 
weapons.  In  the  darkness  of  this  cavern-like  habitation,  might 
be  discerned  Madame  Margot,  her  overgrown  bulk  stowed  away 
among  her  domestic  implements,  furs,  robes,  blankets,  and  painted 
cases  of  par"  fldche,  in  which  dried  meat  is  kept.  Here  she  sat  from 
sunrise  to  sunset,  a  bloated  impersonation  of  gluttony  and  laziness, 
while  her  affectionate  proprietor  was  smoking,  or  begging  petty 
gifts  from  us,  or  telling  lies  concerning  his  own  achievements,  or  I 
perchance  engaged  in  the  more  profitable  occupation  of  cooking 


The  Oregon  Trail 


97 


some  preparation  of  prairie  delicacies.  Reynal  was  an  adept  at  this 
work ;  he  and  Delorier  have  joined  forces  and  are  har('  at  work 
toi^ether  over  the  fire,  while  Raymond  spreads,  hy  way  of  table- 
cloth, a  hi^O'alo  hide,  carefully  whitened  with  pipeclay,  on  the  grass 
()cf()re  the  tent.  Here,  with  ostentatious  display,  he  arranges  the 
teacups  and  plates ;  and  then,  creeping  on  all  fours  like  a  dog,  he 
thrusts  his  head  in  at  the  opening  of  the  tent.  For  a  moment  we  see 
his  r(>un(l  owlish  eyes  rolling  wildly,  as  if  the  idea  he  came  to  com- 
niuuicate  had  suddenly  escaped  him ;  then  collecting  his  scattered 
thoughts,  as  if  by  an  effort,  he  informs  us  that  supper  is  ready, 
and  instantly  withdraws. 

When  sunset  came,  and  at  that  hour  the  wild  and  desolate  scene 
would  assume  a  new  aspect,  the  horses  were  driven  in.  They  had 
been  grazing  all  day  in  the  neighboring  meadow,  but  now  they  were 
picketed  close  about  the  camp.  As  the  prairie  darkened  we  sat  and 
conversed  around  the  fire,  until  becoming  drov/sy  we  spread  our 
saddles  on  the  ground,  wrapped  our  blankets  around  us  and  lay 
down.  We  never  placed  a  guard,  having  by  this  time  become  too 
indolent;  but  Henry  Chatillon  folded  his  loaded  rifle  in  the  same 
blanket  with  himself,  observing  that  he  always  took  it  to  bed  with 
him  when  he  camped  in  that  place.  Henry  was  too  bold  a  man  to 
use  such  a  precaution  without  good  cause.  We  had  a  hint  now  and 
then  that  our  situation  was  none  of  the  safest ;  several  Crow  war 
parties  were  known  to  be  in  the  vicinity,  and  one  of  them,  that 
passed  here  some  time  before,  had  peeled  the  bark  from  a  neigh- 
iDoring  tree,  and  engraved  upon  the  white  wood  certain  hieroglyph- 
ics, to  signify  that  they  had  invaded  the  territories  of  their  ene- 
mies, the  Dakota,  and  set  them  at  defiance.  One  morning  a  thick 
mist  covered  the  whole  country.  Shaw  and  Henry  went  out  to 
ride,  and  soon  came  back  with  a  startling  piece  of  intelligence ;  they 
had  found  within  rifle-shot  of  our  camp  the  recent  trail  of  about 
thirty  horsemen.  They  could  not  be  whites,  and  they  could  not  be 
Dakota,  since  we  knew  no  such  parties  to  be  in  the  neighborhood ; 
therefore  they  must  be  Crows.  Thanks  to  that  friendly  mist,  we 
had  escaped  a  hard  battle;  they  would  inevitably  have  attacked 
us  and  our  Indian  companions  had  they  seen  our  camp.  Whatever 
doubts  we  might  have  entertained,  were  quite  removed  a  day  or 
two  after,  by  two  or  three  Dakota,  who  came  to  us  with  an  account 
of  having  hidden  in  a  ravine  on  that  very  morning,  from  whence 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


they  saw  and  counted  the  Crows;  they  said  that  they  followed 
them,  carefully  keeping  out  of  sight,  as  they  passed  up  Qiugwater; 
that  here  the  Crows  discovered  five  dead  bodies  of  Dakota,  placed 
according  to  the  national  custom  in  trees,  and  flinging  them  to  the 
ground,  they  held  their  guns  against  them  and  blew  them  to  atoms. 

If  our  camp  were  not  altogether  safe,  still  it  was  comfortable 
enough ;  at  least  it  was  so  to  Shaw,  for  I  was  tormented  with  ill- 
ness  and  vexed  by  the  delay  in  the  accomplishment  of  my  designs. 
When  a  respite  in  my  disorder  gave  me  some  returning  strength, 
I  rode  out  well-armed  upon  the  prairie,  or  bathed  with  Shaw  in 
the  stream,  or  waged  a  petty  warfare  with  the  inhabitants  of  a 
neighborhood  prairie-dog  village.  Around  our  fire  at  night  we  em- 
ployed ourselves  in  inveighing  against  the  fickleness  and  incon- 
stancy of  Indians,  and  execrating  The  Whirlwind  and  all  his  vil- 
lage. At  last  the  thing  grew  insufferable, 

"To-morrow  morning,"  said  T,  "I  will  start  for  the  fort,  and 
see  if  I  can  hear  any  news  there."  Late  that  evening,  when  the 
fire  had  sunk  low,  and  all  the  camp  were  asleep,  a  loud  cry  sounder' 
from  the  darkness.  Henry  started  up,  recognized  the  voice,  replied 
to  it,  and  our  dandy  friend.  The  Horse,  rode  in  among  us,  just 
returned  from  his  mission  to  the  village.  He  coolly  picketed  his 
mare,  without  saying  a  word,  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  began  to 
eat,  but  his  imperturbable  philosophy  was  too  much  for  our  pa- 
tience. Where  was  the  village  ?  about  fifty  miles  south  of  us ;  it 
was  moving  slowly  and  would  not  arrive  in  less  than  a  week ;  and 
where  was  Henry's  squaw?  coming  as  fast  as  she  could  with 
Mahto-Tatonka,  and  the  rest  of  her  brothers,  but  she  would  never 
reach  us,  for  she  was  dying,  and  asking  every  moment  for  Henry. 
Henry's  manly  face  became  clouded  and  downcast;  he  said  that 
if  we  were  willing  he  would  go  in  the  morning  to  find  her,  at 
which  Shaw  offered  to  accompany  him. 

We  saddled  our  horses  at  sunrise.  Reynal  protested  vehemently 
against  being  left  alone,  with  nobody  but  the  two  Canadians  and 
the  young  Indians,  when  enemies  were  in  the  neighborhood.  Dis- 
regarding his  compaints,  we  left  him,  and  coming  to  the  mouth  of 
Chugwater,  separated,  Shaw  and  Henry  turning  to  the  right,  up 
the  bank  of  the  stream,  while  I  made  for  the  fort. 

Taking  leave  for  a  while  of  my  friend  and  the  unfortunate 
squaw,  I  will  relate  by  way  of  episode  what  I  saw  and  did  at  Fort 


The  Oregon  Trail 


99 


Laramie.  It  was  not  more  than  eighteen  miles  distant,  and  I  reached 
it  in  three  hours;  a  shriveled  little  figure,  wrapped  from  head  to 
foot  in  a  dingy  white  Canadian  capote,  stood  in  the  gateway,  hold- 
ing by  a  cord  of  bull's  hide  a  shaggy  wild  horse,  which  he  had 
lately  caught.  His  sharp  prominent  features,  and  his  little  keen 
snakelike  eyes,  looked  out  from  beneath  the  shadowy  hood  of  the 
capote,  which  was  drawn  over  his  head  exactly  like  the  cowl  of  a 
Capuchin  friar.  His  face  was  extremely  thin  and  lil^e  an  old  piece 
of  leather,  and  his  mouth  spread  from  ear  to  car.  Extending  his 
long  wiry  hand,  he  welcomed  me  with  something  more  cordial 
than  the  ordinary  cold  salute  of  an  Indian,  for  we  were  excellent 
friends-  He  had  made  an -exchange  of  horses  to  our  mutual  ad- 
vantage; and  Paul,  thinking  himself  well-treated,  had  declared 
ever>where  that  the  white  man  had  a  good  heart.  He  was  a  Dakota 
from  the  Missouri,  a  reputed  son  of  the  halfbrc^d  interpreter, 
Pierre  Dorion,  so  often  mentioned  in  Irving's  "Astoria."  He  said 
that  he  was  going  to  Richard's  trading  house  to  sell  his  horse  to 
some  emigrants  who  were  encamped  there,  and  asked  me  to  go 
with  him.  We  forded  the  stream  together,  Paul  dragging  his  wild 
charge  behind  him.  As  we  passed  over  the  sandy  plains  beyond, 
he  grew  quite  communicative.  Paul  was  a  cosmopolitan -in  his  way ;', 
he  had  been  to  the  settlements  of  the  whites,  and  visited  in  peace  \ 
and  war  most  of  the  tribes  within  the  range  of  a  thousand  miles. 
He  spoke  a  jargon  of  French  and  another  of  English,  yet  never- 
theless he  was  a  thorough  Indian;  and  as  he  told  of  the  bloody 
deeds  of  his  own  people  against  their  enemies,  his  little  eye  would 
glitter  with  a  fierce  luster.  He  told  how  the  Dakota  exterminated 
a  village  of  the  Hohays  on  the  Upper  Missouri,  slaughtering  men, 
women,  and  children;  and  how  an  overwhelming  force  of  them 
cut  ofif  sixteen  of  the  brave  Delawares,  who  fought  like  wolves  to 
the  last,  amid  the  throng  of  their  enemies.  He  told  me  also  another 
story,  which  I  did  not  believe  until  I  had  it  confirmed  from  so 
many  independent  sources  that  no  room  was  left  for  doubt.  I  am 
tempted  to  introduce  it  here. 

Six  years  ago  a  fellow  named  Jim  Beckwith,  a  mongrel  of 
French,  American,  and  negro  blood,  was  trading  for  the  Fur  Com- 
pany, in  a  very  large  village  of  the  Crows.  Jioi-BaJafldtlLwas  last 
summer  at  St.  Louis.  He  is  a  ruffian  of  the  first  stamp ;  bloody 
and  treacherous,  without  honor  or  honesty;  such  at  least  is  the 


til 


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100 


The  Oregon  Trail 


character  he  bears  upon  the  prairie.  Yet  in  his  case  all  the  standard 
rules  of  character  fail,  for  though  he  will  stab  a  man  in  his  sleep, 
he  will  also  perform  most  desperate  acts  of  daring;  such,  for  in- 
stance, as  the  following :  While  he  was  in  the  Crow  village,  a  Black- 
foot  war  party,  between  thirty  and  forty  in  number  came  stealing 
through  the  country,  killing  stragglers  and  carrying  off  horses. 
The  Crow  warriors  got  upon  their  trail  and  pressed  them  so 
closely  that  they  could  not  escape,  at  which  the  Blackfeet,  throw- 
ing up  a  semicircular  breastwork  of  logs  at  the  foot  of  a  precipice, 
coolly  awaited  their  approach.  The  logs  and  sticks,  piled  four  or 
five  feet  high,  protected  them  in  front  The  Crows  might  have 
swept  over  the  breastwork  and  exterminated  their  enemies ;  but 
chough  out-numbering  them  tenfold,  they  did  not  dream  of  storm- 
ing the  little  fortification.  Such  a  proceeding  would  be  altogether 
repugnant  to  their  notions  of  warfare.  Whooping  and  yelling,  and 
jumping  from  side  to  side  like  devils  incarnate,  they  showered 
bullets  and  arrows  upon  the  logs ;  not  a  Blackfoot  was  hurt,  but 
several  Crows,  in  spite  of  their  leaping  and  dodging,  were  shot 
down.  In  this  childish  manner  the  fight  went  on  for  an  hour  or 
two.  Now  and  then  a  Crow  warrior  in  an  ecstasy  of  valor  and 
vainglory  would  scream  forth  his  war  song,  boasting  himself  the 
bravest  and  greatest  of  mankind,  and  grasping  his  hatchet,  would 
rush  up  and  strike  it  upon  the  breastwork,  and  then  as  he  re- 
treated to  his  companions,  fall  dead  under  a  shower  of  arrows; 
yet  no  combined  attack  seemed  to  be  dreamed  of.  The  Blackfeet 
remained  secure  in  their  intrenchment.  At  last  Jim  Beckwith  lost 
patience. 

''You  are  all  fools  and  old  women,"  he  said  to  the  Crows ;  come 
with  me,  if  any  of  you  are  brave  enough,  and  I  will  show  you 
how  to  fight." 

He  threw  oflf  his  trapper's  frock  of  buckskin  and  stripped 
himself  naked  like  the  Indians  themselves.  He  left  his  rifle  on  the 
ground,  and  taking  in  his  hand  a  small  light  hatchet,  he  ran  over 
the  prairie  to  the  right,  concealed  by  a  hollow  from  the  eyes  of  the 
Blackfeet.  Then  climbing  up  the  rocks,  he  gained  the  top  of  the 
precipice  behind  them.  Forty  or  fifty  young  Crow  warriors  fol- 
lowed him.  By  the  cries  and  whoops  that  rose  from  below  he  knew 
that  the  Blackfeet  were  just  beneath  him;  and  running  forward, 
he  leaped  down  the  rock  into  the  midst  of  them.  As  he  fell  he 


The  Oregon  Trail 


101 


caught  one  by  the  long  loose  hair  and  dragging  him  down  toma- 
hawked him;  then  grasping  another  by  the  belt  at  his  waist,  he 
struck  him  also  a  stunning  blow,  and  gaining  his  feet,  shouted 
the  Crow  war-cry.  He  swung  his  hatchet  so  fiercely  around  him 
that  the  astonished  Blackfeet  bore  back  and  gave  him  room.  He 
might,  had  he  chosen,  have  leaped  over  the  breastwork  and  es- 
caped ;  but  this  was  not  necessary,  for  with  devilish  yells  the  Crow 
warriors  came  dropping  in  quick  succession  over  the  rock  among 
their  enemies.  The  main  body  of  the  Crows,  too,  answered  the 
cry  from  the  front  and  rushed  up  simultaneously.  The  convulsive 
struggle  within  the  breastwork  was  frightful;  for  an  instant  the 
Blackfeet  fought  and  yelled  like  pent-up  tigers ;  but  the  butchery 
was  soon  complete,  and  the  mangled  bodies  lay  piled  up  together 
under  the  precipice.  Not  a  Blackfoot  made  his  escape. 

As  Paul  finished  his  story  we  came  in  sight  of  Richard's  fort. 
It  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  plain ;  a  disorderly  crowd  of  men 
around  it,  and  an  emigrant  camp  a  little  in  front. 
"Now,  Paul,"  said  I,  "where  are  your  Winnicongew  lodges?" 
"Not  come  yet,"  said  Paul,  "maybe  come  to-morrow." 
Two  large  villages  of  a  band  of  Dakota  had  come  three  hundred 
miles  from  the  Missouri,  to  join  in  the  war,  and  they  were  ex- 
pected to  reach  Richard's  that  morning.  There  was  as  yet  no  sign 
of  their  approach ;  so  pushing  through  a  noisy,  drunken  crowd,  I 
entered  an  apartment  of  logs  and  mud,  the  largest  in  the  fort ;  it 
was  full  of  men  of  various  races  and  complexions,  all  more  or  less 
drunk.  A  company  of  California  emigrants,  it  seemed,  had  made 
the  discovery  at  this  late  day  that  they  had  encumbered  themselves 
with  too  many  supplies  for  their  journey.  A  part,  therefore,  they 
had  thrown  away  or  sold  at  great  loss  to  the  traders,  but  had 
determined  to  get  rid  of  their  copious  stock  of  Missouri  whisky, 
by  drinking  it  on  the  spot.  Here  were  maudlin  squaws  stretched 
on  piles  of  buffalo  robes ;  squalid  Mexicans,  armed  with  bows  and 
arrows ;  Indians  sedately  drunk ;  long-haired  Canadians  and  trap- 
pers, and  American  backwoodsmen  in  brown  homespun,  the  well-  j 
beloved  pistol  and  bowie  knife  displayed  openly  at  their  sides.  In; 
the  middle  of  the  room  a  tall,  lank  man,  with  a  dingy  broadcloth! 
coat,  was  haranguing  the  company  in  the  style  of  the  stump  orator.i 
With  one  hand  he  sawed  the  air,  and  with  the  other  clutched  firmlyj 
a  brown  jug  of  whisky,  which  he  applied  every  moment  to  hig 


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I  :  •  y 


102 


The  Oregon  Trail 


A 


lips,  forgetting  that  he  had  drained  the  contents  long  ago.  Richard 
formally  introduced  me  to  this  personage,  who  was  no  less  a  man 
than  Colonel  R.,  once  the  leader  of  the  party.  Instantly  the  colonel 
seizing  me,  in  the  absence  of  buttons  by  the  leather  fringes  of  my 
frock,  began  to  define  his  |x)sition.  His  men,  he  said,  had  mutinied 
and  deposed  him ;  but  still  he  exercised  over  them  the  influence  of 
a  superior  mind ;  in  all  but  the  name  he  was  yet  their  chief.  As  the 
colonel  spoke,  I  looked  round  on  the  wild  assemblage,  and  could 
not  help  thinking  that  he  was  but  ill  qualified  to  conduct  such  men 
across  the  desert  to  California.  Conspicuous  among  the  rest  stood 
three  tall  young  men,  grandsons  of  Daniel  lioone.  They  had 
clearly  inherited  the  adventurous  character  of  that  prince  of  pio- 
neers ;  but  I  saw  no  signs  of  the  quiet  and  tranquil  spirit  that  so 
remarkably  distinguished  him. 

Fearful  was  the  fate  that  months  after  overtook  some  of  the 
members  of  that  party.  General  Kearny,  on  his  late  return  from 
California,  brought  in  the  account  how  they  were  interrupted  by 
the  deep  snows  among  the  mountains,  and  maddened  by  cold  and 
hunger  fed  upon  each  other's  flesh. 

I  got  tired  of  the  confusion.  "Come,  Paul,"  said  I,  "we  will  be 
otl."  Paul  sat  in  the  sun,  under  the  wall  of  the  fort.  He  jumped 
up,  mounted,  and  we  rode  toward  Fort  Laramie.  When  we  reached 
it,  a  man  came  out  of  the  gate  with  a  pack  at  his  back  and  a  rifle 
on  his  shoulder ;  others  were  gathering  about  him,  shaking  him 
by  the  hand,  as  if  taking  leave.  I  thought  it  a  strange  thing  that 
a  man  should  set  out  alone  and  on  foot  for  the  prairie.  I  soon  got 
/*  an  explanation.  Perrault — this,  if  I  recollect  right  was  the  Cana- 
""dian's  name — had  quarreled  with  the  bourgeois,  and  the  fort  was 
too  hot  to  hold  him.  Bordeaux,  inflated  with  his  transient  authority, 
had  abused  him,  and  received  a  blow  in  return.  The  men  then 
sprang  at  each  other,  and  grappled  in  the  middle  of  the  fort.  Bor- 
deaux was  down  in  an  instant,  at  the  mercy  of  the  incensed  Cana- 
dian ;  had  not  an  old  Indian,  the  brother  of  his  squaw,  seized  hold 
of  his  antagonist,  he  would  have  fared  ill.  Perrault  broke  loose 
from  the  old  Indian,  and  both  the  white  men  ran  to  their  rooms 
for  their  guns ;  but  when  Bordeaux,  looking  from  his  door,  saw 
the  Canadian,  gun  in  hand,  standing  in  the  area  and  calling  on  him 
to  come  out  and  fight,  his  heart  failed  him;  he  chose  to  remain 
where  he  was.  In  vain  the  old  Indian,  scandalized  by  his  brother- 


in-la 

li<rht 
equal 


gate. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


103 


in-lavv's  cowardice,  called  upon  him  to  go  upon  the  prairie  and 
fi^^ht  it  out  in  the  white  man's  manner  ;  and  Bordeaux's  own  squaw, 
equally  incensed,  screamed  to  her  lord  and  master  that  he  was  a 


Idt,^  and  an  old  woman.  It  all  availed  nothinJ,^  liordeaux's  prudence 
i^ot  tlie  better  of  his  valor,  and  he  would  not  stir.  IV'rrault  stood 
showering  opprobrious  epithets  at  the  recent  bourgeois.  Growing 
tired  of  this,  he' made  up  a  pack  of  dried  meat,  and  slinging  it  at 
his  back,  set  out  alone  for  Fort  Pierre  on  the  Missouri,  a  distance 
of  three  hundred  miles,  over  a  desert  country  full  of  hostile 
hidians. 

I  remained  in  the  fort  that  night.  In  the  morning,  as  I  was  com- 
ing out  from  breakfast,  conversing  with  a  trader  named  Mc- 
Cliiskey,  I  saw  a  strange  Indian  leaning  against  the  side  of  the 
gate.  He  was  a  tall,  strong  man,  with  heavy  features. 

"Who  is  he?"  I  asked.  "That's  The  Whirlwind,"  said  Mc- 
Cliiskey.  "He  is  the  fellow  that  made  all  this  stir  about  the  war. 
It's  always  the  way  with  the  Sioux ;  they  never  stop  cutting  each 
other's  throats ;  it's  all  they  are  fit  for ;  instead  of  sitting  in  their 
lodges,  and  getting  robes  to  trade  with  us  in  the  winter.  If  this 
war  goes  on,  we'll  make  a  poor  trade  of  it  next  season,  I  reckon." 

And  this  was  the  opinion  of  all  the  traders,  who  were  ve- 
hemently opposed  to  the  war,  from  the  serious  injury  that  it  must 
occasion  to  their  interests.  The  Whirlwind  left  his  village  the  day 
before  to  make  a  visit  to  the  fort.  His  warlike  ardor  had  abated 
not  a  little  since  he  first  conceived  the  design  of  avenging  his  son's 
death.  The  long  and  complicated  preparations  for  the  expedition 
were  too  much  for  his  fickle,  inconstant  disposition.  That  morning 
Bordeaux  fastened  upon  him,  made  him  presents  and  told  him 
that  if  he  went  to  war  he  would  destroy  his  horses  and  kill  no 
buffalo  to  trade  with  the  white  men ;  in  short,  that  he  was  a  fool 
to  think  of  such  a  thing,  and  had  better  make  up  his  mind  to  sit 
quietly  in  his  lodge  and  smoke  his  pipe,  like  a  wise  man.  The  Whirl- 
wind's purpose  was  evidently  shaken;  he  had  become  tired,  like  a 
child,  of  his  favorite  plan.  Bordeaux  exultingly  predicted  that  he 
v/ould  not  go  to  war.  My  philanthropy  at  that  time  was  no  match 
for  my  curiosity,  and  I  was  vexed  at  the  possibility  that  after  all 
I  might  lose  the  rare  opportunity  of  seeing  the  formidable  cere- 
monies of  war.  The  Whirlwind,  however,  had  merely  thrown  the 
firebrand;  the  conflagration  was  become  general.  All  the  western 


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104 


The  Oregon  Trail 


bands  of  the  Dakota  were  bent  on  war ;  and  as  I  heard  from  Mc- 
Quskey,  six  large  villages  already  gathered  on  a  little  stream, 
forty  miles  distant,  and  were  daily  calling  to  the  Great  Spirit  to 
aid  them  in  their  enterprise.  McCluskey  had  just  left  and  rep- 
resented  them  as  on  their  way  to  La  Bonte's  Camp,  which  they 
would  reach  in  a  week,  unless  they  should  learn  that  there  were 
no  buffalo  there.  I  did  not  like  this  condition,  for  buffalo  this 
season  were  rare  in  the  neighborhood.  There  were  also  the  two 
Minnicongew  villages  that  I  mentioned  before ;  but  about  noon, 
an  Indian  came  from  Richard's  Fort  with  the  news  that  they 
were  quarreling,  breaking  up,  and  dispersing.  So  much  for  the 
whisky  of  the  emigrants !  Finding  themselves  unable  to  drink  the 
whole,  they  had  sold  the  residue  to  these  Indians,  and  it  needed  no 
prophet  to  foretell  the  results;  a  spark  dropped  into  a  powder 
magazine  would  not  have  produced  a  quicker  effect.  Instantly 
the  old  jealousies  and  rivalries  and  smothered  feuds  that  exist  in 
an  Indian  village  broke  out  into  furious  quarrels.  They  forgot  the 
warlike  enterprise  that  had  already  brought  them  three  hundred 
miles.  They  seemed  like  ungoverned  children  inflamed  with  the 
fiercest  passions  of  men.  Several  of  them  were  stabbed  in  the 
drunken  tumult;  and  in  the  morning  they  scattered  and  moved 
back  toward  the  Missouri  in  small  parties.  I  feared  that,  after  all, 
the  long-projected  meeting  and  the  ceremonies  that  were  to  attend 
it  might  never  take  place,  and  I  should  lose  so  admirable  an  op- 
portunity of  seeing  the  Indian  under  his  most  fearful  and  character- 
istic aspect ;  however,  in  foregoing  this,  I  should  avoid  a  very  fair 
probability  of  being  plundered  and  stripped,  and,  it  might  be, 
stabbed  or  shot  into  the  bargain.  Consoling  myself  with  this  reflec- 
tion, I  prepared  to  carry  the  news,  such  as  it  was,  to  the  camp. 

I  caught  my  horse,  and  to  my  vexation  found  he  had  lost  a  shoe 
and  broken  his  tender  white  hoof  against  the  rocks.  Horses  are 
shod  at  Fort  Laramie  at  the  moderate  rate  of  three  dollars  a  foot ; 
so  I  tied  Hendrick  to  a  beam  in  the  corral,  and  summoned  Roubi- 
dou,  the  blacksmith.  Roubidou,  with  the  hoof  between  his  knees, 
was  at  work  with  hammer  and  file,  and  I  was  inspecting  the  process, 
when  a  strange  voice  addressed  me. 

"Two  more  gone  under!  Well,  there  is  more  of  us  left  yet. 
Here's  Jeon  Gars  and  me  off  to  the  moutains  to-morrow.  Our  turn 
will  come  next,  I  suppose.  It's  a  hard  life,  anyhow !" 


The  Oregon  Trail 


105      \ 


I  looked  up  and  saw  a  little  man,  not  much  more  than  five  feet 
high,  but  of  very  square  and  strong  proportions.  In  appearance 
he  was  particularly  dingy;  for  his  old  buckskin  frock  was  black 
and  polished  with  time  and  grease,  and  his  belt,  knife,  pouch,  and 
powder-horn  appeared  to  have  seen  the  roughest  service.  The  first 
joint  of  each  foot  was  entirely  gone,  having  been  frozen  off  several 
winters  before,  and  his  moccasins  were  curtailed  in  proportion. 
His  whole  appearance  and  equipment  bespoke  the  "free  trapper." 
He  had  a  round  ruddy  face,  animated  with  a  spirt  of  carelessness 
and  gayety  not  at  all  in  accordance  with  the  words  he  had  just 
spoken. 

'Two  more  gone,"  said  I;  "what  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"Oh,"  said  he,  "the  Arapahoes  have  just  killed  two  of  us  in  the 
mountains.  Old  Bull-Tail  has  come  to  tell  us.  They  stabbed  one 
behind  his  back,  and  shot  the  other  with  his  own  rifle.  That's  the 
way  we  live  here !  I  mean  to  give  up  trapping  after  this  year.  My 
squaw  says  she  wants  a  pacing  horse  and  some  red  ribbons ;  I'll 
make  enough  beaver  to  get  them  for  her,  and  then  I'm  done !  I'll 
go  below  and  live  on  a  farm." 

"Your  bones  will  dry  on  the  prairie.  Rouleau!"  said  another 
trapper,  who  was  standing  by ;  a  strong,  brutal-looking  fellow,  with 
a  face  as  surly  as  a  bull-dog's. 

Rouleau  only  laughed,  and  began  to  hum  a  tune  and  shuffle  a 
dance  on  his  stumps  of  feet. 

"You'll  see  us,  before  long,  passing  up  our  way,"  said  the  other 
man. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "stop  and  take  a  cup  of  coffee  with  us ;"  and  as 
it  was  quite  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  prepared  to  leave  the  fort  at 
once. 

As  I  rode  out,  a  train  of  emigrant  wagons  was  passing  across 
the  stream.  "Whar  are  ye  goin'  stranger?"  Thus  I  was  saluted 
by  two  or  three  voices  at  once. 

"About  eighteen  miles  up  the  creek." 

"It's  mighty  late  to  be  going  that  far !  Make  haste,  ye'd  better, 
and  keep  a  bright  lookout  for  Indians !" 

I  thought  the  advice  too  good  to  be  neglected.  Fording  the 
stream,  I  passed  at  a  round  trot  over  the  plains  beyond.  But  "the 
more  haste,  the  worse  speed."  I  proved  the  truth  in  the  proverb 
by  the  time  I  reached  the  hills  three  miles  from  the  fort.  The  trail 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


was  faintly  marked,  and  riding  forward  with  more  rapidity  than 
caution,  I  lost  sight  of  it.  I  kept  on  in  a  direct  line,  guided  by 
Laramie  Creek,  which  I  could  see  at  intervals  darkly  glistenine^  in 
the  evening  sun,  at  the  bottom  of  the  woody  gulf  on  my  rij^ht. 
Half  an  hour  before  sunset  I  came  upon  its  banks.  There  was  sonic- 
thing  exciting  in  the  wild  solitude  of  the  place.  An  antelope  sprang 
suddenly  from  the  sage-bushes  before  me.  As  he  leaped  gracefully 
not  thirty  yards  before  my  horse,  I  fired,  and  instantly  he  spun 
round  and  fell.  Quite  sure  of  him,  I  walked  my  horse  toward  him, 
leisurely  reloading  my  rifle,  when  to  my  surprise  he  sprang  up 
and  trotted  rapidly  away  on  three  legs  into  the  dark  recesses  of 
the  hills,  whither  I  had  no  time  to  follow.  Ten  minutes  after,  I 
was  passing  along  the  bottom  of  a  deep  valley,  and  chancing  to 
look  behind  me,  I  saw  in  the  dim  light  that  something  was  follow- 
ing. Supposing  it  to  be  wolf,  I  slid  from  my  seat  and  sat  down 
behind  my  horse  to  shoot  it ;  but  as  it  came  up,  I  saw  by  its  mo- 
tions that  it  was  another  antelope.  It  approached  within  a  hundred 
yards,  arched  its  graceful  neck,  and  gazed  intently.  I  leveled  at 
the  white  spot  on  its  chest,  and  was  about  to  fire,  when  it  started 
off,  ran  first  to  one  side  and  then  to  the  other,  like  a  vessel  tacking 
against  a  wind,  and  at  last  stretched  away  at  full  speed.  Then  it 
stopped  again,  looked  curiously  behind  it,  and  trotted  up  as  before; 
but  not  so  boldly,  for  it  soon  paused  and  stood  gazing  at  me.  I 
fired;  it  leaped  upward  and  fell  upon  its  tracks.  Measuring  the 
distance,  I  found  it  204  paces.  When  I  stood  by  his  side,  the  ante- 
lope turned  his  expiring  eye  upward.  It  was  like  a  beautiful  wo- 
man's, dark  and  rich.  "Fortunate  that  I  am  in  a  hurry,"  thought 
I ;  "I  might  be  troubled  with  remorse,  if  I  had  time  for  it." 

Cutting  the  animal  up,  not  in  the  most  skilled  manner,  I  hung 
the  meat  at  the  back  of  my  saddle,  and  rode  on  again.  The  hills 
(I  could  not  remember  one  of  them)  closed  around  me.  **It  is  too 
late,"  thought  I,  **to  go  forward.  I  will  stay  here  to-night,  and 
look  for  the  path  in  the  morning."  As  a  last  effort,  however,  I 
ascended  a  high  hill,  from  which,  to  my  great  satisfaction,  I  could 
see  Laramie  Creek  stretching  before  me,  twisting  from  side  to 
side  amid  ragged  patches  of  timber;  and  far  off,  close  beneath 
the  shadows  of  the  trees,  the  ruins  of  the  old  trading  fort  were 
visible.  I  reached  them  at  twilight.  It  was  far  from  pleasant,  in 
that  uncertain  light,  to  be  pushing  through  the  dense  trees  and 


The  Oregon  Trail 


107 


shrubbery  of  the  grove  beyond.  I  listened  anxiously  for  the  foot- 
fall of  man  or  beast.  Nothing  was  stirring  but  one  harmless  brown 
bird,  chirping  among  the  branches.  I  was  glad  when  I  gained  the 
open  prairie  once  more,  where  I  could  see  if  anything  approached. 
When  I  came  to  the  mouth  of  Chugwater,  it  was  totally  dark. 
Slackening  the  reins,  I  let  my  horse  take  his  own  course.  lie  trotted 
on  with  unerring  instinct,  and  by  nine  o'clock  was  scrambling  down 
the  steep  ascent  into  the  meadows  where  we  were  encamped.  While 
I  was  looking  in  vain  for  the  light  of  the  fire,  I  lendrick,  with  keener 
perceptions,  gave  a  loud  neigh,  which  was  immediately  answered 
in  a  shrill  note  from  the  distance.  In  a  moment  I  was  hailed  from 
the  darkness  by  the  voice  of  Reyn;  ,  who  had  come  out,  rifle  in 
hand,  to  see  who  was  approaching. 

He,  with  his  squaw,  the  two  Canadians  and  the  Indian  boys, 
were  the  sole  inmates  of  the  camp,  Shaw  and  Henry  Chatillon 
being  still  absent.  At  noon  of  the  following  day  they  came  back, 
their  horses  looking  none  the  better  for  the  journey.  Henry  seemed 
dejected.  The  woman  was  dead,  and  his  children  must  hencefor- 
ward be  exposed,  without  a  protector,  to  the  hardships  and  vicis- 
situdes of  Indian  life.  Even  in  the  midst  of  his  grief  he  had  not 
forgotten  his  attachment  to  his  bourgeois,  for  he  had  procured 
among  his  Indian  relatives  two  beautifully  ornamented  buffalo 
robes,  which  he  spread  on  the  ground  as  a  present  to  us. 

Shaw  lighted  his  pipe,  and  told  me  in  a  few  words  the  history 
of  his  journey.  When  I  went  to  the  fort  they  left  me,  as  I  men- 
tioned, at  the  mouth  of  Chugwater.  They  followed  the  course  of 
the  little  stream  all  day,  traversing  a  desolate  and  barren  country. 
Several  times  they  came  upon  the  fresh  traces  of  a  large  war  party 
—the  same,  no  doubt,  from  whom  we  had  so  narrowly  escaped 
an  attack.  At  an  hour  before  sunset,  without  encountering  a  human 
being  by  the  way,  they  came  upon  the  lodges  of  the  squaw  and 
her  brothers,  who,  in  compliance  with  Henry's  message,  had  left 
the  Indian  village  in  order  to  join  us  at  our  camp.  The  lodges  were 
already  pitched,  five  in  number,  by  the  side  of  the  stream.  The 
woman  lay  in  one  of  them,  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton.  For  some 
time  she  had  been  unable  to  move  or  speak.  Indeed,  nothing  had 
kept  her  alive  but  the  hope  of  seeing  Henry,  to  whom  she  was 
strongly  and  faithfully  attached.  No  sooner  did  he  enter  the  lodge 
than  she  revived,  and  conversed  with  him  the  greater  part  of  the 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


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night.  Early  in  the  morning  she  was  lifted  into  a  travail,  and  the 
whole  party  set  out  toward  our  camp.  There  were  but  five  war- 
riors ;  the  rest  were  women  and  children.  The  whole  were  in  great 
alarm  at  the  proximity  of  the  Crow  war  party,  who  would  cer- 
tainly have  destroyed  them  without  mercy  had  they  met.  They 
had  advanced  only  a  mile  or  two,  when  they  discerned  a  horseman, 
far  off,  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  They  all  stopped,  gathering 
together  in  the  greatest  anxiety,  from  which  they  did  not  recover 
until  long  after  the  horseman  disappeared ;  then  they  set  out  again. 
Henry  was  riding  with  Shaw  a  few  rods  in  advance  of  the  Indians, 
when  Mahto-Tatonka,  a  younger  brother  of  the  woman,  hastily 
called  after  them.  Turning  back,  they  found  all  the  Indians  crowded 
around  the  travail  in  which  the  woman  was  lying.  They  reached 
her  just  in  time  to  hear  the  death-rattle  in  her  throat.  In  a  mo- 
ment she  lay  dead  in  the  basket  of  the  vehicle.  A  complete  still- 
ness succeeded;  then  the  Indians  raised  in  concert  their  cries  of 
lamentation  over  the  corpse,  and  among  them  Shaw  clearly  dis- 
tinguished those  strange  sounds  resembling  the  word  "Halleluyah," 
which  together  with  some  other  accidental  coincidences  has  given 
rise  to  the  absurd  theory  that  the  Indians  are  descended  from  the 
ten  lost  tribes  of  Israel. 

The  Indian  usage  required  that  Henry,  as  well  as  the  other 
relatives  of  the  woman,  should  make  valuable  presents,  to  be  placed 
by  the  side  of  the  body  at  its  last  resting  place.  Leaving  the  Indians, 
he  and  Shaw  set  out  for  the  camp  and  reached  it,  as  we  have  seen, 
by  hard  pushing,  at  about  noon.  Having  obtained  the  necessary 
articles,  they  immediately  returned.  It  was  very  late  and  quite 
dark  when  they  again  reached  the  lodges.  They  were  all  placed  in 
a  deep  hollow  among  the  dreary  hills.  Four  of  them  were  just 
visible  through  the  gloom,  but  the  fifth  and  largest  was  illuminated 
by  the  ruddy  blaze  of  a  fire  within,  glowing  through  the  half- 
transparent  covering  of  raw  hides.  There  was  a  perfect  stillness 
as  they  approached.  The  lodges  seemed  without  a  tenant.  Not  a 
living  thing  was  stirring — there  was  something  awful  in  the  scene. 
They  rode  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  lodge,  and  there  was  no  sound 
but  the  tramp  of  their  horses.  A  squaw  came  out  and  took  charge 
of  the  animals,  without  speaking  a  word.  Entering,  they  found 
the  lodge  crowded  with  Indians ;  a  fire  was  burning  in  the  midst, 
and  the  mourners  encircled  it  in  a  triple  row.  Room  was  made  for 


The  Oregon  Trail 


109 


the  newcomers  at  the  head  of  the  lodge,  a  robe  spread  for  them 
to  sit  upon,  and  a  pipe  lighted  and  handed  to  them  in  perfect 
silence.  Thus  they  passed  the  greater  part  of  the  nifiht.  At  times 
the  fire  would  subside  into  a  heap  of  embers,  until  the  dark  figures 
seated  around  it  were  scarcely  visible ;  then  a  s([uaw  would  drop 
upon  it  a  piece  of  butTalo-fat,  and  a  bright  flame,  instantly  sjjring- 
ing  up,  would  reveal  of  a  sudden  the  crowd  of  wild  faces,  motion- 
less as  bronze.  The  silence  continued  unbroken.  It  was  a  relief  to 
Shaw  when  daylight  returned  and  he  could  escape  from  this  house 
of  mourning.  He  and  Henry  prepared  to  return  homeward ;  first, 
however,  they  placed  the  presents  they  had  brought  near  the  body 
of  the  squaw,  which,  most  gaudily  attired,  remained  in  a  sitting 
posture  in  one  of  the  lodges.  A  fine  horse  was  picketed  not  far  off, 
destined  to  be  killed  that  morning  for  the  service  of  her  spirit, 
for  the  woman  was  lame,  and  could  not  travel  on  foot  over  the 
dismal  prairies  to  the  villages  of  the  dead.  Food,  too,  was  provided, 
and  household  implements,  for  her  use  upon  this  last  journey. 

Henry  left  her  to  the  care  of  her  relatives,  and  came  immediately 
with  Shaw  to  the  camp.  It  was  some  time  before  he  entirely  re- 
covered from  his  dejection. 


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Chapter  XI 
SCENES  AT  THE  CAMP 


Reynal  heard  guns  fired  one  day,  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  cr 
two  from  the  camp.  He  grew  nervous  instantly.  Visions  of  Crow 
war  parties  began  to  haunt  his  imagination ;  and  when  we  returned 
(for  we  were  all  absent),  he  renewed  his  complaints  about  being 
left  alone  with  the  Canadians  and  the  squaw.  The  day  after,  the 
cause  of  the  alarm  appeared.  Four  trappers,  one  called  Moran, 
another  Saraphin,  and  the  others  nicknamed  "Rouleau"  and  "Jean 
Gras,"  came  to  our  camp  and  joined  us.  They  it  was  who  fired  the 
guns  and  disturbed  the  dreams  of  our  confederate  Reynal.  They 
soon  encamped  by  our  side.  Their  rifles,  dingy  and  battered  with 
hard  service,  rested  with  ours  against  the  old  tree;  their  strong 
rude  saddles,  their  buffalo  robes,  their  traps,  and  the  few  rough 


!      i 


110 


The  Oregon  Trail 


and  simple  articles  of  their  traveling  equipment,  were  piled  near 
our  tent.  Their  mountain  horses  were  turned  to  graze  in  tlic 
meadow  among  our  own ;  and  the  men  themselves,  no  less  rou^h 
and  hardy,  used  to  lie  half  the  day  in  the  shade  of  our  tree  lolling,' 
on  the  grass,  lazily  smoking,  and  telling  stories  of  their  adventurt-s; 
and  I  defy  the  annals  of  chivalry  to  furnish  the  record  of  a  life 
more  wild  and  perilous  than  that  of  a  Rocky  Mountain  trapper 

With  this  efficient  re-enforcement  the  agitation  of  Reynal's 
nerves  subsided.  He  began  to  conceive  a  sort  of  attachment  to  our 
old  camping  ground ;  yet  it  was  time  to  change  our  quarters,  since 
remaining  too  long  on  one  spot  must  lead  to  certain  unpleasant 
results  not  to  be  borne  with  unless  in  a  case  of  dire  necessity.  The 
grass  no  longer  presented  a  smooth  surface  of  turf ;  it  was  trami)le(i 
into  mud  and  clay.  So  we  removed  to  another  old  tree,  larger  yet, 
that  grew  by  the  river  side  at  a  furlong's  distance.  Its  trunk  was 
full  six  feet  in  diameter ;  on  one  side  it  was  marked  by  a  party  of 
Indians  with  various  inexplicable  hieroglyphics,  commemorating 
some  warlike  enterprise,  and  aloft  among  the  branches  were  the 
remains  of  a  scaffc^lding,  where  dead  bodies  had  once  been  de- 
posited, after  the  Indian  manner. 

"There  comes  Bull-Bear,"  said  Henry  Chatillon,  as  we  sat  on 
the  grass  at  dinner.  Looking  up,  we  saw  several  horsemen  coming 
over  the  neighboring  hill,  and  in  a  moment  four  stately  young  men 
rode  up  and  dismounted.  One  of  them  was  Bull-Bear,  or  Mahto- 
Tatonka,  a  compound  name  which  he  inherited  from  his  father, 
the  most  powerful  chief  in  the  Ogallalla  band.  One  of  his  brothers 
and  two  other  young  men  accompanied  him.  We  shook  hands  with 
the  visitors,  and  when  we  had  finished  our  meal — for  this  is  the 
orthodox  manner  of  entertaining  Indians,  even  the  best  of  them— 
we  handed  to  each  a  tin  cup  of  coffee  and  a  biscuit,  at  which  they 
ejaculated  from  the  bottom  of  their  throats,  "How !  how !"  a  mono- 
syllable by  which  an  Indian  contrives  to  express  half  the  emotions 
that  he  is  susceptible  of.  Then  we  lighted  the  pipe,  and  passed 
it  to  them  as  they  squatted  on  the  ground. 

"Where  is  the  village  ?" 

"There,"  said  Mahto-Tatonka,  pointing  southward ;  "it  will  come 
in  two  days." 

•'Will  they  go  to  the  war?" 

"Yes." 


The  Oregon  Trail 


111 


> 


No  man  is  a  phalanthropist  on  the  prairie.  We  welcomed  this 

news  inoj»t  eortttaTIy,  and  congratulated  ourselves  that  liordi-aux's 
interested  efforts  to  divert  The  Whirlwind  from  his  congenial 
vocation  of  hloodshed  had  failed  of  success,  and  that  no  additional 
obstacles  would  interpose  hetween  us  and  our  plan  of  rejjairing 
to  the  rendezvous  at  La  lionte's  Camp. 

I'or  tliat  and  several  succeeding  days,  Mahto-Tatonka  and  his 
friends  remained  our  guests.  Tliey  devoured  the  relics  of  our  meals  ; 
they  filled  the  pipe  for  us  and  also  helped  us  to  smoke  it.  Some- 
times they  stretched  themselves  side  by  side  in  the  shade,  indulg- 
ing in  raillery  and  practical  jokes  ill  becoming  the  dignity  of  brave 
and  aspiring  warriors,  such  as  two  of  them  in  reality  were. 

Two  days  dragged  away,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  third  we 
hoped  confidently  to  see  the  Indian  village.  It  did  not  come;  so 
we  rode  out  to  look  for  it.  In  place  of  the  eight  hundred  Indians 
we  cxi:)ected,  we  met  one  solitary  savage  riding  toward  us  over 
the  prairie,  who  told  us  that  the  Indians  had  changed  their  plans, 
and  would  not  come  within  three  days ;  still  he  persisted  that  they 
were  going  to  the  war.  Taking  along  with  us  this  messenger  of 
evil  tidings,  we  retraced  our  footsteps  to  the  camp,  amusing  our- 
selves by  the  way  with^^xecrating  Indian  inconstancy.  When  we  / 
came  in  sight  of  our  little  white  tent  under  the  big  tree,  we  saw 
that  it  no  longer  stood  alone.  A  huge  old  lodge  was  erected  close 
by  its  side,  discolored  by  rain  and  storms,  rotted  with  age,  with  the 
uncouth  figures  of  horses  and  men,  and  outstretched  hands  that 
were  painted  upon  it,  well-nigh  obliterated.  The  long  poles  which 
supported  this  squalid  habitation  thrust  themselves  rakishly  out 
from  its  pointed  top,  and  over  its  entrance  were  suspended  a 
"medicine-pipe"  and  various  other  implements  of  the  magic  art. 
While  we  were  yet  at  a  distance,  we  observed  a  greatly  increased 
population  of  various  colors  and  dimensions,  swarming  around  our 
quiet  encampment.  Moran,  the  trapper,  having  been  absent  for  a 
day  or  two,  had  returned,  it  seemed,  bringing  all  his  family  with 
him.  He  had  taken  to  himself  a  wife  for  whom  he  had  paid  the 
established  price  of  one  horse.  This  looks  cheap  at  first  sight,  but 
in  truth  the  purchase  of  a  squaw  is  a  transaction  which  no  man 
should  enter  into  without  mature  deliberation,  since  it  involves  not 
only  the  payment  of  the  first  price,  but  the  formidable  burden  of 
feeding  and  supporting  a  rapacious  horde  of  the  bride's  relatives,  -^ 


} 


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112 


The  Oregon  Trail 


who  hold  themselves  entitled  to  feed  upon  the  indiscreet  white  man. 
They  gather  round  like  leeches,  and  drain  him  of  all  he  has. 

Moran,  like  Reynal,  had  not  allied  himself  to  an  aristocratic 
circle.  His  relatives  occupied  but  a  contemptible  position  in  Ogal- 
lalla  society;  for  among  these  wild  democrats  of  the  prairie,  as 
among  us,  there  are  virtual  distinctions  of  rank  and  place ;  though 
this  great  advantage  they  have  over  us,  that  wealth  has  no  part 
in  determining  such  distinctions.  Moran's  partner  was  not  the 
most  beautiful  of  her  sex,  and  he  had  the  exceedingly  bad  taste  to 
array  her  in  an  old  calico  gown  bought  from  an  emigrant  woman, 
instead  of  the  neat  and  graceful  tunic  of  whitened  deerskin  worn 
ordinarily  by  the  squaws.  The  moving  spirit  of  the  establishment, 
in  more  senses  than  one,  was  a  hideous  old  hag  of  eighty.  Human 
imagination  never  conceived  hobgoblin  or  witch  more  ugly  than 
she.  You  could  count  all  her  ribs  through  the  wrinkles  of  the 
leathery  skin  that  covered  them.  Her  withered  face  more  resembled 
an  old  skull  than  the  countenance  of  a  living  being,  even  to  the 
hollow,  darkened  sockets,  at  the  bottom  of  which  glittered  her  little 
black  eyes.  Her  arms  had  dwindled  away  into  nothing  but  whip- 
cord and  wire.  Her  hair,  half  black,  half  gray,  hung  in  total  neglect 
nearly  to  the  ground,  and  her  sole  garment  consisted  of  the  rem- 
nant of  a  discarded  buffalo  robe  tied  round  her  waist  with  a  string 
of  hide.  Yet  the  old  squaw's  meager  anatomy  was  wonderfully 
strong.  She  pitched  the  lodge,  packed  the  horses,  and  did  the 
hardest  labor  of  the  camp.  From  morning  till  night  she  bustled 
about  the  lodge,  screaming  like  a  screech-owl  when  anything 
displeased  her.  Then  there  was  her  brother,  a  **medicine-man,"  or 
magician,  equally  gaunt  and  sinewy  with  herself.  His  mouth  spread 
from  ear  to  ear,  and  his  appetite,  as  we  had  full  occasion  to  learn, 
was  ravenous  in  proportion.  The  other  inmates  of  the  lodge  were 
a^young  bride  and  bride-groom ;  the  latter  one  of  those  idle,  good- 
for-nothing  fellows  who  infest  an  Indian  village  as  well  as  more 
civilized  communities.  He  was  fit  neither  for  hunting  nor  for 
war ;  and  one  might  infer  as  much  from  the  stolid  unmeaning  ex- 
pression of  his  face.  The  happy  pair  had  just  entered  upon  the 
honeymoon.  They  would  stretch  a  buffalo  robe  upon  poles,  so  as 
to  protect  them  from  the  fierce  rays  of  the  sun,  and  spreading 
beneath  this  rough  canopy  a  luxuriant  couch  of  furs,  would  sit 
affectionately  side  by  side  for  half  the  day,  though  I  could  not 


The  Oregon  Trail 


113 


discover  that  much  conversation  passed  between  them.  Probably 
they  had  nothing  to  say ;  for  an  Indian's  supply  of  topics  for  con- 
versation is  far  from  being  copious.  There  were  half  a  dozen  chil- 
dren, too,  playing  and  whooping  about  the  camp,  shooting  birds 
with  little  bows  and  arrows,  or  making  miniature  lodges  of  sticks, 
as  children  of  a  different  complexion  build  houses  of  blocks. 

A  day  passed,  and  Indians  began  rapidly  to  come  in.  Parties  of 
two  or  three  or  more  would  ride  up  and  silently  seat  themselves  on 
the  grass.  The  fourth  day  came  at  last,  when  about  noon  horse- 
men suddenly  appeared  into  view  on  the  summit  of  the  neighbor- 
ing ridge.  They  descended,  and  behind  them  followed  a  wild  pro- 
cession, hurrying  in  haste  and  disorder  down  the  hill  and  over  the 
plain  below;  horses,  mules,  and  dogs,  heavily  burdened  travaux, 
mounted  warriors,  squaws  walking  amid  the  throng,  and  a  host  of 
children.  For  a  full  half-hour  they  continued  to  pour  down ;  and 
keeping  directly  to  the  bend  of  the  stream,  within  a  furlong  of  us, 
they  soon  assembled  there,  a  dark  and  confused  throng,  until,  as 
if  by  magic,  150  tall  lodges  sprung  up.  On  a  sudden  the  lonely 
plain  was  transformed  into  the  site  of  a  minature  city.  Countless 
horses  were  soon  grazing  over  the  meadows  around  us,  and  the 
whole  prairie  was  animated  by  restless  figures  careening  on  horse- 
back, or  sedately  stalking  in  their  long  white  robes.  The  Whirlwind 
was  come  at  last!  One  question  yet  remained  to  be  answered: 
"Will  he  go  to  the  war,  in  order  that  we,  with  so  respectable  an 
escort,  may  pass  over  to  the  somewhat  perilous  rendezvous  at  La 
Bonte's  Camp?" 

Still  this  remained  in  doubt.  Characteristic  indecision  perplexed 
their  councils.  Indians  cannot  act  in  large  bodies.  Though  their 
object  be  of  the  highest  importance,  they  cannot  combine  to  attain 
it  by  a  series  of  connected  efforts.  King  Philip,  Pontiac,  and 
Tecumseh  all  felt  this  to  their  cost.  The  Ogallalla  once  had  a  war 
chief  who  could  control  them ;  but  he  was  dead,  and  now  they  were  1  /' '  1/ 
left  to  the  sway  of  their  own  unsteady  impulses.  n  j  A 

This  Indian  village  and  its  inhabitants  will  hold  a  prominent       '  -^ 
place  in  the  rest  of  the  narrative,  and  perhaps  it  may  not  be  amiss 
to  glance  for  an  instant  at  the  savage  people  of  which  they  form  a       ■ 
part.  The  Dakota  (I  prefer  this  national  designation  to  the  un-    ff 
meaning  French  name,  Sioux)  range  ovef^aVSSf  Territory,  from 
the  river  St.  Peter's  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  themselves.  They  are 


'  H 


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i 


i       r    t,    ; 


■  1 1  ! 


f' 


i   i 


I 

r 


II 


t  t 


,    ;      f 


m 


114 


The  Oregon  Trail 


^.! 


divided  into  several  independent  bands,  united  under  no  central 
government,  and  acknowledge  no  common  head.  The  same  lan- 
guage, usages,  and  superstitions  form  the  sole  bond  between  them. 
They  do  not  unite  even  in  their  wars.  The  bands  of  the  east  fight 
the  Ojibwas  on  the  Upper  Lakes;  those  of  the  west  make  inces- 
sant war  upon  the  Snake  Indians  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  As  the 
whole  people  is  divided  into  bands,  so  each  band  is  divided  into 
\^     villages.  Each  village  has  a  chief,  who  is  honored  and  obeyed  only 
so  far  as  his  personal  qualities  may  command  respect  and  fear. 
Sometimes  he  is  a  mere  nominal  chief ;  sometimes  his  authority 
is  little  short  of  absolute,  and  his  fame  and  influence  reach  even 
beyond  his  own  village ;  so  that  the  whole  band  to  which  he  be- 
longs is  ready  to  acknowledge  him  as  their  head.  This  was,  a  few 
years  since,  the  case  with  the  Ogallalla.  Courage,  address,  and 
enterprise  may  raise  any  warrior  to  the  highest  honor,  especially 
if  he  be  the  son  of  a  former  chief,  or  a  member  of  a  numerous 
family,  to  support  him  and  avenge  his  quarrels ;  but  when  he  has 
reached  the  dignity  of  chief,  and  the  old  men  and  warriors,  by  a 
peculiar  ceremony,  have  formally  installed  him,  let  it  not  be  imag- 
ined that  he  assumes  any  of  the  outward  semblances  of  rank  and 
honor.  He  knows  too  well  on  how  frail  a  tenure  he  holds  his 
station.  He  must  conciliate  his  uncertain  subjects.  Many  a  man  in 
the  village  lives  better,  owns  more  squaws  and  more  horses,  and 
goes  better  clad  than  he.  Like  the  Teutonic  chiefs  of  old,  he  in- 
gratiates himself  with  his  young  men  by  making  them  presents, 
thereby  often  impoverishing  himself.  Does  he  fail  in  gaining  their 
favor,  they  will  set  his  authority  at  naught,  and  may  desert  him  at 
any  moment ;  for  the  usages  of  his  people  have  provided  no  sanc- 
tions by  which  he  may  enforce  his  authority.  Very  seldom  does  it 
happen,  at  least  among  these  western  bands,  that  a  chief  attains  to 
much  power,  unless  he  is  the  head  of  a  numerous  family.  Fre- 
quently the  village  is  principally  made  up  of  his  relatives  and  de- 
scendants, and  the  wandering  community  assumes  much  of  the 
patriarchal  character.  A  people  so  loosely  united,  torn,  too,  with 
ranking  feuds  and  jealousies,  can  have  little  power  or  efficiency. 

The  western  Dakota  have  no  fixed  habitations.  Hunting  and 
fighting,  they  wander  incessantly  through  summer  and  winter. 
Some  are  following  the  herds  of  buffalo  over  the  waste  of  prairie; 
others  are  traversing  the  Black  Hills,  thronging  on  horseback  and 


n 


The  Oregon  Trail 


115 


on  foot  through  the  dark  gulfs  and  somber  gorges  beneath  the  vast 
splintering  precipices,  and  emerging  at  last  upon  the  *Tarks,"  those 
beautiful  but  most  perilous  hunting  grounds.  The  buffalo  supplies 
them  with  almost  all  the  necessaries  of  life ;  withTiabitations,  food, 
clothing,  and  fuel ;  with  strings  for  their  bows,  with  thread,  cord- 
age, and  trail-ropes  for  their  horses,  with  coverings  for  their 
saddles,  with  vessels  to  hold  water,  with  boats  to  cross  streams, 
with  glue,  and  with  the  means  of  purchasing  all  that  they  desire 
from  the  traders.  When  the  buffalo  are  extinct,  they  too  must 
dwindle  away. 

War  is  the  breath  of  their  nostrils.  Against  most  of  the  neigh- 
boring tribes  they  cherish  a  deadly,  rancorous  hatred,  transmitted 
from  father  to  son,  and  inflamed  by  constant  aggression  and  retali- 
ation. Many  times  a  year,  in  every  village,  the  Great  Spirit  is 
called  upon,  fasts  are  made,  the  war  parade  is  celebrated,  and  the 
warriors  go  out  by  handfuls  at  a  time  against  the  enemy.  This 
fierce  and  evil  spirit  awakens  their  most  eager  aspirations,  and  calls 
forth  their  greatest  energies.  It  is  chiefly  this  that  saves  them  from 
lethargy  and  utter  abasement.  Without  its  powerful  stimulus  they 
would  be  like  the  unwarlike  tribes  beyond  the  mountains,  who  are 
scattered  among  the  caves  and  rocks  like  beasts,  living  on  roots 
and  reptiles.  These  latter  have  little  of  humanity  except  the  form ; 
but  the  proud  and  ambitious  Dakota  warrior  can  sometimes  boast 
of  heroic  virtues.  It  is  very  seldom  that  distinction  and  influence 
are  attained  among  them  by  any  other  course  than  that  of  arms. 
Their  superistition,  however,  sometimes  gives  great  power,  to  those 
among  them  who  pretend  to  the  character  of  magicians.  Their 
wild  hearts,  too,  can  feel  the  power  of  oratory,  and  yield  deference 
to  the  masters  of  it. 

But  to  return.  Look  into  our  tent,  or  enter,  if  you  can  bear  the 
stifling  smoke  and  the  close  atmosphere.  There,  wedged  close  to- 
gether, you  will  see  a  circle  of  stout  warriors,  passing  the  pipe 
around,  joking,  telling  stories,  and  making  themselves  merry,  after 
their  fashion.  We  were  also  infested  by  little  copper-colored  naked 
boys  and  snake-eyed  girls.  They  would  come  up  to  us,  muttering 
certain  words,  which  being  interpreted  conveyed  the  concise  in- 
vitation, "Come  and  eat."  Then  we  would  rise,  cursing  the  pertinac- 
ity of  Dakota  hospitality,  which  allowed  scarcely  an  hour  of  rest 
between  sun  and  sun,  and  to  which  we  were  bound  to  do  honor, 


/ 


:?   I 


t 


^  P\T' 


•  ? 


116 


The  Oregon  Trail 


unless  we  would  offend  our  entertainers.  This  necessity  was 
particularly  burdensome  to  me,  as  I  was  scarcely  able  to  walk,  from 
the  effects  of  illness,  and  was  of  course  poorly  qualified  to  dispose 
of  twenty  meals  a  day.  Of  these  sumptuous  banquets  I  gave  a 
specimen  in  a  former  chapter,  where  the  tragical  fate  of  the  little 
dog  was  chronicled.  So  bounteous  an  entertainment  looks  like  an 
outgushing  of  good  will;  but  doubtless  one-half  at  least  of  our 
kind  hosts,  had  they  met  us  alone  and  unarmed  on  the  prairie, 
would  have  robbed  us  of  our  horses,  and  perchance  have  bestowed 
an  arrow  upon  us  beside.  Trust  not  an  Indian.  Let  your  rifle  be  ever 
in  your  hand.  Wear  next  your  heart  the  old  chivalric  motto  Semper 
Paratus. 

One  morning  we  were  summoned  to  the  lodge  of  an  old  man,  in 
good  truth  the  Nestor  of  his  tribe.  We  found  him  half  sitting,  half 
reclining  on  a  pile  of  buffalo  robes ;  his  long  hair,  jet-black  even 
now,  though  he  had  seen  some  eighty  winters,  hung  on  either  side 
of  his  thin  features.  Those  most  conversant  with  Indians  in  their 
homes  will  scarcely  believe  me  when  I  affirm  that  there  was  dignity 
in  his  countenance  and  mien.  His  gaunt  but  symmetrical  frame, 
did  not  more  clearly  exhibit  the  wreck  of  bygone  strength,  than 
did  his  dark,  wasted  features,  still  prominent  and  commanding, 
bear  the  stamp  of  mental  energies.  I  recalled,  as  I  saw  him,  the 
eloquent  metaphor  of  the  Iroquois  sachem:  "I  am  an  aged  hem- 
lock ;  the  winds  of  a  hundred  winters  have  whistled  through  my 
branches,  and  I  am  dead  at  the  top !"  Opposite  the  patriarch  was 
his  nephew,  the  young  aspirant  Mahto-Tatonka ;  and  besides  these, 
there  were  one  or  two  women  in  the  lodge. 

The  old  man's  story  is  peculiar,  and  singularly  illustrative  of  a 
superstitious  custom  that  prevails  in  full  force  among  many  of  the 
Indian  tribes.  He  was  one  of  a  powerful  family,  renowned  for  their 
warlike  exploits.  When  a  very  young  man,  he  submitted  to  the 
singular  rite  to  which  most  of  the  tribe  subject  themselves  before 
entering  upon  life.  He  painted  his  face  black ;  then  seeking  out  a 
cavern  in  a  sequestered  part  of  the  Black  Hills,  he  lay  for  several 
days,  fasting  and  praying  to  the  Great  Spirit.  In  the  dreams  and 
visions  produced  by  his  weakened  and  excited  state,  he  fancied  like 
all  Indians,  that  he  saw  supernatural  revelations.  Again  and  again 
the  form  of  an  antelope  appeared  before  him.  The  antelope  is  the 
graceful  peace  spirit  of  the  Ogallalla ;  but  seldom  is  it  that  such  a 


'". 


The  Oregon  Trail 


117 


gentle  visitor  presents  itself  during  the  initiatory  fasts  of  their 
young  men.  The  terrible  grizzly  bear,  the  divinity  of  war,  usually 
appears  to  fire  them  with  martial  ardor  and  thirst  for  renown.  At 
length  the  antelope  spoke.  He  told  the  young  dreamer  that  he  was 
not  to  follow  the  path  of  war ;  that  a  life  of  peace  and  tranquillity 
was  marked  out  for  him  ;•  that  henceforward  he  was  to  guide  the 
people  by  his  counsels  and  protect  them  from  the  evils  of  their  own 
feuds  and  dissensions.  Others  were  to  gain  renown  by  fighting  the 
I  enemy;  but  greatness  of  a  different  kind  was  in  store  for  him. 

The  visions  beheld  during  the  period  of  this  fast  usually  deter- 
mine the  whole  course  of  the  dreamer's  life,  for  an  Indian  is  bound 
by  iron  superstitions.  From  that  time,  Le  Borgne,  which  was  the 
only  name  by  which  we  knew  him,  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  war 
and  devoted  himself  to  the  labors  of  peace.  He  told  his  vision  to 
the  people.  They  honored  his  commission  and  respected  him  in  his 
novel  capacity. 

A  far  different  man  was  his  brother,  Mahto-Tatonka,  who  had 
transmitted  his  names,  his  features,  and  many  of  his  characteris- 
tic qualities  to  his  son.  He  was  the  father  of  Henry  Chatillon's 
squaw,  a  circumstance  which  proved  of  some  advantage  to  us,  as 
securing  for  us  the  friendship  of  a  family  perhaps  the  most  dis- 
tinguished and  powerful  in  the  whole  Ogallalla  band.  Mahto- 
Tatonka,  in  his  rude  way,  was  a  hero.  No  chief  could  vie  with  him 
in  warlike  renown,  or  in  power  over  his  people.  He  had  a  fearless 
spirit,  and  a  most  impetuous  and  inflexible  resolution.  His  will  was 
lav/.  He  was  politic  and  sagacious,  and  with  true  Indian  craft  he 
always  befriended  the  whites,  well  knowing  that  he  might  thus 
reap  great  advantages  for  himself  and  his  adherents.  When  he  had 
resolved  on  any  course  of  conduct,  he  would  pay  to  the  warriors 
the  empty  compliment  of  calling  them  together  to  deliberate  upon 
it,  and  when  their  debates  were  over,  he  would  quietly  state  his  own 
opinion,  which  no  one  ever  disputed.  The  consequences  of  thwart- 
ing his  imperious  will  were  too  formidable  to  be  encountered.  Woe 
to  those  who  incurred  his  displeasure !  He  would  strike  them  or 
stab  them  on  the  spot;  and  this  act,  which,  if  attempted  by  any 
other  chief,  would  instantly  have  cost  him  his  life,  the  awe  inspired 
by  his  name  enabled  him  to  repeat  again  and  again  with  impunity. 
In  a  community  where,  from  immemorial  time,  no  man  has  ac- 
knowledged any  law  but  his  own  will,  Mahto-Tatonka,  by  the  force 


I 
I- 


(  I 


Wi 


■ 


s 


118 


The  Oregon  Trail 


»• 


of  his  dauntless  resolution,  raised  himself  to  power  little  short  of 
despotic.  His  haughty  career  came  at  last  to  an  end.  He  had  a  host 
of  enemies  only  waiting  for  their  opportunity  of  revenge,  and  our 
old  friend  Smoke,  in  particular,  together  with  all  his  kinsmen. 
hated  him  most  cordially.  Smoke  sat  one  day  in  his  lodge  in  the 
midst  of  his  own  village,  when  Mahto-Tatonka  entered  it  alone, 
and  approaching  the  dwelling  of  his  enemy,  called  on  him  in  a 
loud  voice  to  come  out,  if  he  were  a  man,  and  fight.  Smoke  would 
not  move.  At  this,  Mahto-Tatonka  proclaimed  him  a  coward  and 
an  old  woman,  and  striding  close  to  the  entrance  of  the  lodge, 
stabbed  the  chief's  best  horse,  which  was  picketed  there.  Smoke 
was  daunted,  and  even  this  insult  failed  to  call  him  forth.  Mahto- 
Tatonka  moved  haughtily  away ;  all  made  way  for  him,  but  his 
nour  of  reckoning  was  near. 

One  hot  day,  five  or  six  years  ago,  numerous  lodges  of  Smoke's 
kinsmen  were  gathered  around  some  of  the  Fur  Company's  men, 
who  were  trading  in  various  articles  with  them,  whisky  among  the 
rest.  Mahto-Tatonka  was  also  there  with  a  few  of  his  people.  As 
he  lay  in  his  own  lodge,  a  fray  arose  between  his  adherents  and  the 
kinsmen  of  his  enemy.  The  war-whoop  was  raised,  bullets  and 
arrows  began  to  fly,  and  the  camp  was  in  confusion.  The  chief 
sprang  up,  and  rushing  in  a  fury  from  the  lodge  shouted  to  the 
combatants  on  both  sides  to  cease.  Instantly — for  the  attack  was 
preconcerted — came  the  reports  of  two  or  three  guns,  and  the 
twanging  of  a  dozen  bows,  and  the  savage  hero,  mortally  wounded. 
pitched  forward  headlong  to  the  ground.  Rouleau  was  present,  and 
told  me  the  particulars.  The  tumult  became  general,  and  was  not 
quelled  until  several  had  fallen  on  both  sides.  When  we  were  in  the 
country  the  feud  between  the  two  families  was  still  rankling,  and 
not  likely  soon  to  cease. 

Thus  died  Mahto-Tatonka,  but  he  left  behind  him  a  goodly  anny 
of  descendants,  to  perpetuate  his  renown  and  avenge  his  fate.  Be- 
sides daughters  he  had  thirty  sons,  a  number  which  need  not  stag- 
ger the  credulity  of  those  who  are  best  acquainted  with  Indian 
usages  and  practices.  We  saw  many  of  them,  all  marked  by  the 
same  dark  complexion  and  the  same  peculiar  cast  of  features.  Of 
these  our  visitor,  young  Mahto-Tatonka,  was  the  eldest,  and  some 
reported  him  as  likely  to  succeed  to  his  father's  honors.  Though  he 
appeared  not  more  than  twenty-one  years  old,  he  had  oftener  struck 


Hfft 


The  Oregon  Trail 


119 


the  enemy,  and  stolen  more  horses  and  more  squaws  than  any  young 
man  in  the  village.  We  of  the  civilized  world  are  not  apt  to  attach 
much  credit  to  the  latter  species  of  exploits ;  but  horse-stealing  is 
well  known  as  an  avenue  to  distinction  on  the  prairies,  and  the 
other  kind  of  depredation  is  esteemed  equally  meritorious.  Not  that 
the  act  can  confer  fame  from  its  own  intrinsic  merits.  Any  one  can 
steal  a  squaw,  and  if  he  chooses  afterward  to  make  an  adequate 
present  to  her  rightful  proprietor,  the  easy  husband  for  the  most 
part  rests  content,  his  vengeance  falls  asleep,  and  all  danger  from 
that  quarter  is  averted.  Yet  this  is  esteemed  but  a  pitiful  and  mean- 
spirited  transaction.  The  danger  is  averted,  but  the  glory  of  the 
achievement  also  is  lost.  Mahto-Tatonka  proceeded  after  a  more 
gallant  and  dashing  fashion.  Out  of  several  dozen  squaws  whom 
he  had  stolen,  he  could  boast  that  he  had  never  paid  for  one,  but 
snapping  his  fingers  in  the  face  of  the  injured  husband,  had  defied 
the  extremity  of  his  indignation,  and  no  one  yet  had  dared  to  lay 
the  finger  of  violence  upon  him.  He  was  following  close  in  the 
footsteps  of  his  father.  The  young  men  and  the  young  squaws,  each 
in  their  way,  admired  him.  The  one  would  always  follow  him  to 
war,  and  he  was  esteemed  to  have  unrivaled  charm  in  the  eyes  of 
the  other.  Perhaps  his  impunity  may  excite  some  wonder.  An  arrow 
shot  from  a  ravine,  a  stab  given  in  the  dark,  require  no  great  valor, 
and  are  especially  suited  to  the  Indian  genius ;  but  Mahto-Tatonka 
had  a  strong  protection.  It  was  not  alone  his  courage  and  audacious 
will  that  enabled  him  to  career  so  dashingly  among  his  compeers. 
His  enemies  did  not  forget  that  he  was  one  of  thirty  warlike  breth- 
ren, all  growing  up  to  manhood.  Should  they  wreak  their  anger 
upon  him,  many  keen  e)res  would  be  ever  upon  them,  many  fierce 
hearts  would  thirst  for  their  blood.  The  avenger  would  dog  their 
footsteps  everywhere.  To  kill  Mahto-Tatonka  would  be  no  better 
than  an  act  of  suicide. 

Though  he  found  such  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  fair,  he  was  no 
dandy.  As  among  us  those  of  highest  worth  and  breeding  are  most 
simple  in  manner  and  attire,  so  our  aspiring  young  friend  was  in- 
different to  the  gaudy  trappings  and  ornaments  of  his  companions. 
He  was  content  to  rest  his  chances  of  success  upon  his  own  war- 
like merits.  He  never  arrayed  himself  in  gaudy  blanket  and  glit- 
tering necklaces,  but  left  his  statue-like  form,  limbed  like  an  Apollo 
of  bronze,  to  win  its  way  to  favor.  His  voice  was  singularly  deep 


f  \ 


.  I 


'ii. 


■i 


Ml 


;j  »  i' 


t'.      V        • 


■mh  I 


120 


The  Oregon  Trail 


III 


m' 


u 


and  strong.  It  sounded  from  his  chest  like  the  deep  notes  of  an 
organ.  Yet  after  all,  he  was  but  an  Indian.  See  him  as  he  lies  there 
in  the  sun  before  our  tent,  kicking  his  heels  in  the  air  and  cracking 
jokes  with  his  brother.  Does  he  look  like  a  hero  ?  See  him  now  in 
the  hour  of  his  glory,  when  at  sunset  the  whole  village  empties  it- 
self to  behold  him,  for  tomorrow  their  favorite  young  partisan 
goes  out  against  the  enemy.  His  superb  headdress  is  adorned  with 
a  crest  of  the  war  eagle's  feathers,  rising  in  a  waving  ridge  above 
his  brow,  and  sweeping  far  behind  him.  His  round  white  shield 
hangs  at  his  breast,  with  feathers  radiating  from  the  center  like  a 
star.  His  quiver  is  at  his  back ;  his  tall  lance  in  his  hand,  the  iron 
point  flashing  against  the  declining  sun,  while  the  long  scalp-locks 
of  his  enemies  flutter  from  the  shaft.  Thus,  gorgeous  as  a  champion 
in  his  panoply,  he  rides  round  and  round  within  the  great  circle 
of  lodges,  balancing  with  a  graceful  buoyancy  to  the  free  move- 
ments of  his  war  horse,  while  with  a  sedate  brow  he  sings  his  song 
to  the  Great  Spirit.  Young  rival  warriors  look  askance  at  him; 
vermilion-cheeked  girls  gaze  in  admiration,  boys  whoop  and  scream 
in  a  thrill  of  delight,  and  old  women  yell  forth  his  name  and  pro- 
claim his  praises  from  lodge  to  lodge. 

Mahto-Tatonka,  to  come  back  to  him,  was  the  best  of  all  our 
Indian  friends.  Hour  after  hour  and  day  after  day,  when  swarms 
of  savages  of  every  age,  sex,  and  degree  beset  our  camp,  he  would 
lie  in  our  tent,  his  lynx  eye  ever  open  to  guard  our  property  from 
pillage. 

The  Whirlwind  invited  us  one  day  to  his  lodge.  The  feast  was 
finished,  and  the  pipe  began  to  circulate.  It  was  a  remarkably  large 
and  fine  one,  and  I  expressed  my  admiration  of  its  form  and  dimen- 
sions. 

"If  the  Meneaska  likes  the  pipe,"  asked  The  Whirlwind,  "why 
does  he  not  keep  it?" 

Such  a  pipe  among  the  Ogallalla  is  valued  at  the  price  of  a  horse. 
A  princely  gift,  thinks  the  reader,  and  worthy  of  a  chieftain  and  a 
warrior.  The  Whirlwind's  generosity  rose  to  no  such  pitch.  He  gave 
me  the  pipe,  confidently  expecting  that  I  in  return  should  make 
him  a  present  of  equal  or  superior  value.  This  is  the  implied  con- 
dition of  every  gift  among  the  Indians  as  among  the  Orientals, 
and  should  it  not  be  complied  with  the  present  is  usually  reclaimed 
by  the  giver.  So  I  arranged  upon  a  gaudy  calico  handkerchief,  an 


The  Oregon  Trail 


121 


assortment  of  vermilion,  tobacco,  knives,  and  gunpowder,  and 
summoning  the  chief  to  camp,  assured  him  of  my  friendship  and 
begged  his  acceptance  of  a  slight  token  of  it.  Ejaculating  how! 
how!  he  folded  up  the  offerings  and  withdrew  to  his  lodge. 

Several  days  passed  and  we  and  the  Indians  remained  encamped 
side  by  side.  They  could  not  decide  whether  or  not  tc  go  to  war. 
Toward  evening,  scores  of  them  would  surround  our  tent,  a  pic- 
turesque group.  Late  one  afternoon  a  party  of  them  mounted  on 
horseback  came  suddenly  in  sight  from  behind  some  clumps  of 
bushes  that  lined  the  bank  of  the  stream,  leading  with  them  a  mule, 
on  whose  back  was  a  wretched  negro,  only  sustained  in  his  seat  by 
the  high  pommel  and  cantle  «of  the  Indian  saddle.  His  cheeks  were 
withered  and  shrunken  in  the  hollow  of  his  jaws ;  his  eyes  were 
unnaturally  dilated,  and  his  lips  seemed  shriveled  and  drawn  back 
from  his  teeth  like  those  of  a  corpse.  When  they  brought  him  up 
before  our  tent,  and  lifted  him  from  the  saddle,  he  could  not  walk 
or  stand,  but  he  crawled  a  short  distance,  and  with  a  look  of  utter 
misery  sat  down  on  the  grass.  All  the  children  and  women  came 
pouring  out  of  the  lodges  round  us,  and  with  screams  and  cries 
made  a  close  circle  about  him,  while  he  sat  supporting  himself 
with  his  hands,  and  looking  from  side  to  side  with  a  vacant  stare. 
The  wretch  was  starving  to  death !  For  thirty-three  days  he  had 
wandered  alone  on  the  prairie,  without  weapon  of  any  kind ;  with- 
out shoes,  moccasins,  or  any  other  clothing  than  an  old  jacket  and 
pantaloons;  without  intelligence  and  skill  to  guide  his  course,  or 
any  knowledge  of  the  productions  of  the  prairie.  All  this  time  he 
had  subsisted  on  crickets  and  lizards,  wild  onions,  and  three  eggs 
which  he  found  in  the  nest  of  a  prairie  <Jove.  He  had  not  seen  a 
human  being.  Utterly  bewildered  in  the  ^undless,  hopeless  desert 
that  stretched  around  him,  offering  to  his  inexperienced  eye  no 
mark  by  which  to  direct  his  course,  he  had  walked  on  in  despair 
till  he  could  walk  no  longer,  and  then  crawled  on  his  knees  until 
the  bone  was  laid  bare.  He  chose  the  night  for  his  traveling,  lying 
down  by  day  to  sleep  in  the  glaring  sun,  always  dreaming,  as  he 
said,  of  the  broth  and  corn  cake  he  used  to  eat  under  his  old  mas- 
ter's shed  in  Missouri.  Every  man  in  the  camp,  both  white  and  red, 
was  astonished  at  his  wonderful  escape  not  only  from  starvation 
but  from  the  grizzly  bears  which  abound  in  that  neighborhood,  and 
the  wolves  which  howled  around  him  every  night. 


/ 


n\ 


■11 


1  » 


i  1 


122 


The  Oregon  Trail 


Reynal  recognized  him  the  moment  the  Indians  brought  him  in. 
He  had  run  away  from  his  master  about  a  year  before  and  joined 
the  party  of  M.  Richard,  who  was  then  leaving  the  frontier  for  the 
mountains.  He  had  Hved  with  Richard  ever  since,  until  in  the  end 
of  May  he  with  Reynal  and  several  other  men  went  out  in  search 
of  some  stray  horses,  when  he  got  separated  from  the  rest  in  a 
storm,  and  had  never  been  heard  of  up  to  this  time.  Knowing  his 
inexperience  and  helplessness,  no  one  dreamed  that  he  could  still 
be  living.  The  Indians  had  found  him  lying  exhausted  on  the 
ground. 

As  he  sat  there  with  the  Indians  gazing  silently  on  him,  his  hag- 
gard face  and  glazed  eye  were  disgusting  to  look  upon.  Delorier 
made  him  a  bowl  of  gruel,  but  he  suffered  it  to  remain  untasted 
before  him.  At  length  he  languidly  raised  the  spoon  to  his  lips; 
again  he  did  so,  and  again ;  and  then  his  appetite  seemed  suddenly 
inflamed  into  madness,  for  he  seized  the  bowl,  swallowed  all  its 
contents  in  a  few  seconds,  and  eagerly  demanded  meat.  This  we 
refused,  telling  him  to  wait  until  morning,  but  he  begged  so  eagerly 
that  we  gave  him  a  small  piece,  which  he  devoured  tearing  it  like 
a  dog.  He  said  he  must  have  more.  We  told  him  that  his  life  was  in 
danger  if  he  ate  so  immoderately  at  first.  He  assented,  and  said  he 
knew  he  was  a  fool  to  do  so,  but  he  must  have  meat.  This  we  ab- 
solutely refused,  to  the  great  indignation  of  the  senseless  squaws, 
who,  when  we  were  not  watching  him,  would  slyly  bring  dried  meat 
and  pommcs  blanches,  and  place  them  on  the  ground  by  his  side. 
Still  this  was  not  enough  for  him.  When  it  grew  dark  he  contrived 
to  creep  away  between  the  legs  of  the  horses  and  crawl  over  to  the 
Indian  village,  about  a  furlong  down  the  stream.  Here  he  fed  to 
his  heart's  content,  and  was  brotight  back  again  in  the  morning, 
when  Jean  Gras,  the  trapper,  put  him  on  horseback  and  carried  him 
to  the  fort.  He  managed  to  survive  the  efTects  of  his  insane  greedi- 
ness, and  though  slightly  deranged  when  we  left  this  part  of  the 
country,  he  was  otherwise  in  tolerable  health,  and  expressed  his 
firm  conviction  that  nothing  could  ever  kill  him. 

When  the  sun  was  yet  an  hour  high,  it  was  a  gay  scene  in  the 
village.  The  warriors  scalked  sedately  among  the  lodges,  or  along 
the  margin  of  the  streams,  or  walked  out  to  visit  the  bands  of 
horses  that  were  feeding  over  the  prairie.  Half  the  village  popula- 
tion deserted  the  close  and  heated  lodges  and  betook  themselves  to 


9>    j^OL^-^ 


J 


oUl 


r 


^^-^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


123 


the  water ;  and  here  you  might  see  boys  and  girls  and  young  squaws 
splashing,  swimming,  and  diving  beneath  the  afternoon  sun,  with 
merry  laughter  and  screaming.  [But  when  the  sun  was  just  resting 
above  the  broken  peaks,  and  the  piirpTe "mountains  threw  their  pro- 
longed shadows  for  miles  over  the  prairie ;  when  our  grim  old  tree, 
lighted  by  the  horizontal  rays,  assumed  an  aspect  of  peaceful  re- 
pose, such  as  one  loves  after  scenes  of  tumult  and  excitement ;  and 
when  the  whole  landscape  of  swelling  plains  and  scattered  groves 
was  softened  into  a  tranquil  beauty,  then  our  encampment  pre- 
sented a  striking  spectacle.  Could  Salvator  Rosa  have  transferred 
it  to  his  canvas,  it  would  have  added  new  renown  to  his  pencil. 
Savage  figures  surrounded  our  tent,  with  quivers  at  their  backs, 
and  guns,  lances,  or  tomahawks  in  their  hands.  Some  sat  on  horse- 
back, motionless  as  equestrian  statues,  their  arms  crossed  on  their 
breasts,  their  eyes  fixed  in  a  steady  unwavering  gaze  upon  us. 
Some  stood  erect,  wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  their  long  white 
robes  of  buffalo  hide.  Some  sat  together  on  the  grass,  holding  their 
shaggy  horses  by  a  rope,  with  their  broad  dark  busts  exposed  to 
view  as  they  suffered  their  robes  to  fall  from  their  shoulders. 
Others  again  stood  carelessly  among  the  throng,  with  nothing  to 
conceal  ihe  matchless  symmetry  of  their  forms ;  and  I  do  not  exag- 
gerate when  I  say  that  only  on  the  prairie  and  in  the  Vatican  have 
I  seen  such  faultless  models  of  the  human  figure.  See  that  warrior 
standing  by  the  tree,  towering  six  feet  and  a  half  in  stature.  Your 
eyes  may  trace  the  whole  of  his  graceful  and  majestic  height,  and 
discover  no  defect  or  blemish.  With  his  free  and  noble  attitude,  with 
the  bow  in  his  hand,  and  the  quiver  at  his  back,  he  might  seem,  but 
for  his  face,  the  Pythian  Apollo  himself.  Such  a  figure  rose  before 
the  imagination  of  West,  when  on  first  seeing  the  Belvidere  in  the 
Vatican,  he  exclaimed,  "By  God,  a  Mohawk!" 

When  the  sky  darkened  and  the  stars  began  to  appear ;  when  the 
[prairie  was  involved  in  gloom  and  the  horses  were  driven  in  and 
secured  around  the  camp,  the  crowd  began  to  melt  away.  Fires 
[gleamed  around,  duskily   revealing  the  rough  trappers  and  the 
graceful  Indians.  One  of  the  families  near  us  would  always  be 
gathered  about  a  bright  blaze,  that  displayed  the  shadowy  dimen- 
sions of  their  lodge,  and  sent  its  lights  far  up  among  the  masses  of 
foliage  above,  gilding  the  dead  and  ragged  branches.  Withered 
Iwitchlike  hags  flitted  around  the  blaze,  and  here  for  hour  after  hour 


:i 


i  i 


fev 


f      ! 


A 


'■f 


*t,H 


?     ! 


i''.    'I'l 


r 

i 

>                   * 

11 

1 

'1  ■ 

\ 

1  ■ 

'< . 

1  m. 

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1  1 

1 

124 


The  Orec.on  Trail 


m 


sat  a  circle  of  childroji  and  younj;  K'^ls,  lau^jhinj:^  and  talking',  their 
round  inorry  faces  Kl<'vvinj,'  in  the  niddy  li^dit.  Wc  could  hear  the 
monotonous  notes  of  the  drum  from  the  hnhan  villaji^e,  with  the 
chant  of  tlie  war  sonj;,  deadened  in  tlie  (hstance,  and  the  lonjj  chorus 
of  (juaverinjj  yells,  where  the  war  dance  was  jjoin^  on  in  the  largest 
lodj^e.  h'or  several  nights,  too,  we  could  hear  wild  and  mournful 
cries,  risinj;  and  dyinj;  away  like  the  mel.uKholy  voice  of  ;i  wolf. 
They  came  from  the  sisters  and  female  relatives  of  Mahto-Tatonka, 
who  were  ^jashinj;  their  limhs  with  knives,  and  hewailinj;  tlu-  diath 
of  llemy  C'hatillon's  s(|uaw.  The  hour  would  jj;row  late  hcforeall 
retired  to  rest  in  the  camp.  Then  the  emhers  of  the  fires  would  lie 
glowinji^  dimly,  the  men  would  he  stretched  in  their  hlankets  on  the 
ground,  and  nothing  could  he  heard  hut  the  restless  motions  of  the 
crowded  horses. 
f//^  I  rcxrall  these  scenes  with  a  mixed  feeling  of  pleasure  and  pain, 
At  this  time  I  was  sp  reduced  by  illness  that  I  could  seldom  walk 
without  reeling  like  a  drunken  man,  and  when  I  rose  from  tny 
seat  u[X)n  the  ground  the  landscape  suddenly  grew  dim  beft)rc  niv 
eyes,  the  trees  and  lodges  seemed  to  sway  to  and  fro,  and  the  prairie 
to  rise  and  fall  like  the  swells  of  the  ocean.  Such  a  state  of  thinjjs 
is  by  no  means  enviable  anywhere.  In  a  country  where  a  man's  life 
may  at  any  moment  depend  on  the  strength  of  his  arm,  or  it  maybe 
on  the  activity  of  his  legs,  it  is  more  particularly  inconvenient. 
Medical  assistance  of  course  there  was  none ;  neither  had  I  the 
means  of  pursuing  a  system  of  diet;  and  sleeping  on  a  damp 
ground,  with  an  occasional  drenching  from  a  shower,  would  hardly 
be  recommended  as  beneficial.  I  sometimes  suiiered  the  extremity 
of  languor  and  exhaustion,  and  though  at  the  time  I  felt  no  appre- 
hensions of  the  final  r^wlti  I  have  since  learned  that  my  situation 
was  a  critical  one.      fi   / 

Besides  other  formidable  inconveniences  I  owe  it  in  a  great 
measure  to  the  remote  eflfects  of  that  unlucky  disorder  that  froinj 
deficient  eyesight  I  am  compelled  to  employ  the  pen  of  another  in 
taking  down  this  narrative  from  my  lips ;  and  I  have  learned  very 
eflfectually  that  a  violent  attack  of  dysentery  on  the  prairie  is  a 
thing  too  serious  for  a  joke.  I  tried  repose  and  a  very  sparing  diet 
For  a  long  time,  with  exemplary  patience,  I  lounged  about  the 
camp,  or  at  the  utmost  staggered  over  to  the  Indian  village,  and 
walked  faint  and  dizzy  among  the  lodges.  It  would  not  do,  andl 


tit 


TiiK  ()rk<;<)N  Thau, 


125 


bcthou^'lit  me  of  starvation.  During  five  days  I  sustained  life  on 
one  small  hiscuit  a  day.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I  was  weaker  tlian 
before,  hut  the  disorder  seemed  shaken  in  its  stronj;hf>ld  and  very 
^'radually  I  hej;an  to  resume  a  less  rijjid  diet.  No  sooner  had  I 
done  so  tlian  the  satne  detested  symptoms  revisited  me ;  my  old 
enemy  resumed  his  pertinacious  assaults,  yet  not  with  his  former 
violence  or  constancy,  and  thoujjh  he  fore  I  rej^ained  any  fair  ])or- 
tion  of  my  ordinary  strength  weeks  had  elapsed,  and  months  passed 
before  the  disorder  left  me,  yet  thanks  to  old  liahits  of  .ictivity, 
and  a  merciful  Providence,  I  was  ahle  to  sustain  myself  against  it. 

I  used  to  lie  languid  and  dreamy  he  fore  our  tent  and  muse  on  the  . 
past  and  the  future,  anrl  when  most  overcome  with  lassitude,  my  '' 
eyes  turned  always  toward  the  distant  iilack  Hills.  There  is  a  spirit 
of  energy  and  vigor  in  mountains,  and  they  impart  it  to  all  who 
ai^jiroach  their  presence.  At  that  time  I  did  not  know  how  many 
(lark  superstitions  and  gloomy  legends  are  associated  with  those 
mountains  in  the  minds  of  the  Indians,  hut  I  felt  an  eager  desire  to 
penetrate  their  hidden  recesses,  to  explore  the  awful  chasms  and 
precipices,  the  black  torrents,  the  silent  forests,  that  I  fancied  were 
concealed  there. 


IM 


Chapter  XII 
ILL  LUCK 


>  i 


A  Canadian  came  from  Fort  Laramie,  and  brought  a  curious 
piece  of  intelligence.  A  trapper,  fresh  from  the  mountains,  had  be- 
come enamored  of  a  Missouri  damsel  belonging  to  a  family  who 
with  other  emigrants  had  been  for  some  days  encamped  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  fort.  If  bravery  be  the  most  potent  charm  to 
win  the  favor  of  the  fair,  then  no  wooer  could  be  more  irresistible 
than  a  Rocky  Mountain  trapper.  In  the  present  instance,  the  suit 
was  not  urged  in  vain.  The  lovers  concerted  a  scheme,  which  they 
proceeded  to  carry  into  effect  with  all  possible  dispatch.  The  emi- 
grant party  left  the  fort,  and  on  the  next  succeeding  night  but  one 
encamped  as  usual,  and  placed  a  guard.  A  little  after  midnight  the 
enamored  trapper  drew  near,  mounted  on  a  strong  horse  and  lead- 
ing another  by  the  bridle.  Fastening  both  animals  to  a  tree,  he 


h 


li^l 


'%'\\ 


I  I 


4'  . ' 


126 


The  Oregon  Trail 


'•^iiiii 


stealthily  moved  toward  the  wagons,  as  if  he  were  approaching  a 
band  of  buffalo.  Eluding  the  vigilance  of  the  guard,  w  ho  was  prob- 
ably half  asleep,  he  met  his  mistress  by  appointment  at  the  out- 
skirts of  the  camp,  mounted  her  on  his  spare  horse,  and  made  off 
with  her  through  the  darkness.  The  sequel  of  the  adventure  did  not 
reach  our  ears,  and  we  never  learned  how  the  imprudent  fair  one 
liked  an  Indian  lodge  for  a  dwelling,  and  a  reckless  trapper  for  a 
bridegroom. 

At  length  The  Whirlwind  and  his  warriors  determined  to  move. 
They  had  resolved  after  all  their  preparations  not  to  go  to  the 
rendezvous  at  La  Bonte's  Camp,  but  to  pass  through  the  Black 
Hills  and  spend  a  few  weeks  in  hunting  the  buffalo  on  the  other 
side,  until  they  had  killed  enough  to  furnish  them  with  a  stock  of 
provisions  and  with  hides  to  make  their  lodges  for  the  next  season. 
This  done,  they  were  to  send  out  a  small  independent  war  party 
against  the  enemy.  Their  final  determination  left  us  in  some  em- 
barrassment. Should  we  go  to  La  Bonte's  Camp,  it  was  not  impos- 
sible that  the  other  villages  would  prove  as  vacillating  and  inde- 
cisive as  The  Whirlwind's,  and  that  no  assembly  whatever  would 
take  place.  Our  old  companion  Reynal  had  conceived  a  liking  for 
us,  or  rather  for  our  biscuit  and  coffee,  and  for  the  occasional  small 
presents  which  we  made  him.  He  was  very  anxious  that  we  should 
go  with  the  village  which  he  himself  intended  to  accompany.  He  de- 
clared he  was  certain  chat  no  Indians  would  meet  at  the  rendez- 
vous, and  said  moreover  that  it  would  be  easy  to  convey  our  cart 
and  baggage  through  the  Black  Hills.  In  saying  this,  he  told  as 

V  usual  an  egregious  falsehood.  Neither  he  nor  any  white  man  with 
us  had  ever  seeriThe  difficult  and  obscure  defiles  through  which 
the  Indians  intended  to  make  their  way.  I  passed  them  afterward, 
and  had  much  ado  to  force  my  distressed  horse  along  the  narrow 
ravines,  and  through  chasms  where  daylight  could  scarcely  pene- 
trate. Our  cart  might  as  easily  have  been  conveyed  over  the  sum- 

Tx  mit  of  Pike's  Peak.  Anticipating  the  difficulties  and  uncertainties 
of  an  attempt  to  visit  the  rendezvous,  we  recalled  the  old  proverb 
about  "A  bird  in  the  hand,"  and  decided  to  follow  the  village. 

Both  camps,  the  Indians'  and  our  own,  broke  up  on  the  morning 
of  the  1st  of  July.  I  was  so  weak  that  the  aid  of  a  potent  auxiliary, 
a  spoonful  of  whisky  swallowed  at  short  intervals,  alone  enabled 
me  to  sit  on  my  hardy  little  mare  Pauline  through  the  short  journey 


^;- 


The  Oregon  Trail 


127 


of  that  day.  For  half  a  mile  before  us  and  half  a  mile  behind,  the 
prairie  was  covered  far  and  wide  with  the  moving  throng  of  sav- 
ages. The  barren,  broken  plain  stretched  away  to  the  right  and  left, 
and  far  in  front  rose  the  gloomy  precipitous  ridge  of  the  Black 
Hills.  We  pushed  forward  to  the  head  of  the  scattered  column, 
Dassing  the  burdened  travaux,  the  heavily  laden  pack  horses,  the 
gaunt  old  women  on  foot,  the  gay  young  squaws  on  horseback,  the 
restless  children  running  among  the  crowd,  old  men  striding  along 
in  their  white  buffalo  robes,  and  groups  of  young  warriors  mounted 
on  their  best  horses.  Henry  Chatillon,  looking  backward  over  the 
distant  prairie,  exclaimed  suddenly  that  a  horseman  was  approach- 
ing, and  in  truth  we  could  just  discern  a  small  black  speck  slowly 
moving  over  the  face  of  a  distant  swell,  like  a  fly  creeping  on  a 
wall.  It  rapidly  grew  larger  as  it  approached. 

"' Vhite  man,  I  b'lieve,"  said  Henry ;  "look  how  he  ride !  Indian 
never  ride  that  way.  Yes ;  he  got  rifle  on  the  saddle  before  him." 

The  horseman  disappeared  in  a  hollow  of  the  prairie,  but  we 
soon  saw  him  again,  and  as  he  came  riding  at  a  gallop  toward  us 
through  the  crowd  of  Indians,  his  long  hair  streaming  in  the  wind 
behind  him,  we  recognized  the  ruddy  face  and  old  buckskin  frock 
of  Jean  Gras  the  trapper.  He  was  just  arrived  from  Fort  Laramie, 
where  he  had  been  on  a  visit,  and  said  he  had  a  message  for  us.  A 
trader  named  Bisonette,  one  of  Henry's  friends,  was  lately  come 
from  the  settlements,  and  intended  to  go  with  a  party  of  men  to 
La  Bonte's  Camp,  where,  as  Jean  Gras  assured  us,  ten  or  twelve 
villager)  of  Indians  would  certainly  assemble.  Bisonette  desired 
that  we  would  cross  over  and  meet  him  there,  and  promised  that 
his  men  should  protect  our  horses  and  baggage  while  we  went 
among  the  Indians.  Shaw  and  I  stopped  our  horses  and  held  a 
council,  and  in  an  evil  hour  resolved  to  go. 

For  the  rest  of  that  day's  journey  our  course  and  that  of  the  In- 
dians was  the  same.  In  less  than  an  hour  we  came  to  where  the 
high  barren  prairie  terminated,  sinking  down  abruptly  in  steep 
descent;  and  standing  on  these  heights,  we  saw  below  us  a  great 
level  meadow.  Laramie  Creek  bounded  it  on  the  left,  sweeping 
along  in  the  shadow  of  the  declivities,  and  passing  with  its  shallow  yj 
and  rapid  cunent  just  below  tiSi:  'We  sat  on  horseback,  waiting  and 
looking  on,  while  the  whole  savage  array  went  pouring  past  us, 
hurrying  down  the  descent  and  spreading  themselves  over  the 


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128 


The  Oregon  Trail 


meadow  below.  In  a  few  moments  the  plain  was  swarming  with 
the  moving  multitude,  some  just  visible,  like  specks  in  the  distance, 
others  still  i>assing  on,  pressing  down,  and  fording  the  stream  with 
bustle  and  confusion.  On  the  edge  of  the  heights  sat  half  a  dozen 
of  the  elder  warriors,  gravely  smoking  and  looking  down  with  un- 
moved faces  on  the  wild  and  striking  spectacle. 

Up  went  the  lodges  in  a  circle  on  the  margin  of  the  stream.  For 
the  sake  of  quiet  we  pitched  our  tent  among  some  trees  at  half  a 
mile's  distance.  In  the  afternoon  we  were  in  the  village.  The  day 
was  a  glorious  one,  and  the  whole  camp  seemed  lively  and  animated 
in  sympathy.  Groups  of  children  and  young  girls  were  laughing 
gayly  on  the  outside  of  the  lodges.  The  shields,  the  lances,  and  the 
bows  were  removed  from  the  tall  tripods  on  which  they  usually 
hung  before  the  dwellings  of  their  owners.  The  warriors  were 
mounting  their  horses,  and  one  by  one  riding  away  over  the  prairie 
toward  the  neighboring  hills. 

j      Shaw  and  I  sat  on  the  grass  near  the  lodge  of  Reynal.  An  old 
woman,  with  true  Indian  hospitality,  brought  a  bowl  of  boiled  veni- 
son and  placed  it  before  us.  We  amused  ourselves  with  watching 
half  a  dozen  young  squaws  who  were  playing  together  and  chasing 
each  other  in  and  out  of  one  of  the  lodges.  Suddenly  the  wild  yell 
of  the  war-whoop  came  pealing  from  the  hills.  A  crowd  of  horse- 
men appeared,  rushing  down  their  sides  and  riding  at  full  speed 
\      toward  the  village,  each  warrior's  long  hair  flying  behind  him  in 
\    the  wind  like  a  ship's  streamer.  As  they  approached,  the  confused 
i      throng  assumed  a  regular  order,  and  entering  two  by  two,  thev 
^    circled  round  the  area  at  full  gallop,  each  warrior  singing  his  war 
^^  .   song  as  he  rode.  Some  of  their  dresses  were  splendid.  They  wore 
\.  superb  crests  of  feathers  and  close  tunics  of  antelope  skins,  fringed 
A  with  the  scalp-locks  of  their  enemies ;  their  shields  too  were  often 
Y^.    fluttering  with  the  war  eagle's  feathers.  All  had  bows  and  arrows 
at  thei.  back ;  some  carried  long  lances,  and  a  few  were  armed  with 
Y  guns.  The  White  Shield,  th^ir  pan^j^*},  rode  in  gorgeous  attire  at 
/  their  head,  mounted  on  a  black-and-white  horse.  Mahto-Tatonka 
and  his  brothers  took  no  part  in  this  parade,  for  they  were  in 
,     mourning  for  thoir  sister,  and  were  all  sitting  in  their  lodges,  their 
bodies  bedaubed  from  head  to  foot  with  white  clay,  and  a  lock  of 
hair  cut  from  each  of  their  foreheads. 

The  warriors  circkxi  three  times  round  the  village ;  and  as  each 


The  Oregon  Trail 


129 


distinguished  champion  passed,  the  old  women  would  scream  out 
his  name  in  honor  of  his  bravery,  and  to  incite  the  emulation  of  y 
the  younger  warriors.  Little  urchins,  not  two  years  old,  lolfowed 
the  warlike  pageant  with  glittering  eyes,  and  looked  with  eager 
wonder  and  admiration  at  those  whose  honors  were  proclaimed  by 
the  jmblir  voice  of  the  village.  Thus  early  is  the  lesson  of  war  in- 
stilled into  the  mind  of  an  Indian,  and  such  are  the  stimulants 
which  incite  his  thirst  for  martial  renown. 

The  procession  rode  out  of  the  village  as  it  had  entered  it,  and 
in  half  an  hour  all  the  warriors  had  returned  again,  dropping  quietly 
in,  singly  or  in  parties  of  two  or  three. 

As  the  Sim  rose  next  morning  we  looked  across  the  meadow,  and 
could  see  the  lodges  leveled  and  the  Indians  leathering  together  in 
preparation  to  leave  the  camp.  Their  course  lay  to  the  westward. 
We  turned  toward  the  north  with  our  men,  the  four  trappers  fol- 
lowing us,  with  the  Indian  family  of  Moran.  We  traveled  until 
night.  I  suffered  not  a  little  from  pain  and  weakness.  We  encamped 
among  some  trees  by  the  side  of  a  little  brook,  and  here  during  the 
whole  of  the  next  day  we  lay  waiting  for  Bisonette,  but  no  Bison- 
ette  appeared.  Here  also  two  of  our  trapper  friends  left  us,  and  set 
out  for  the  Rocky  Mountains.  On  the  second  morning,  despairing 
of  Bisonette's  arrival  we  resumed  our  journey,  traversing  a  forlorn 
and  dreary  monotony  of  sun-scorched  plains,  where  no  living  thing 
appeared  save  here  and  there  an  antelope  flying  before  us  like  the 
wind.  When  noon  came  we  saw  an  unwonted  and  most  welcome 
sight ;  a  rich  and  luxuriant  growth  of  trees,  marking  the  course  of 
a  little  stream  called  Horseshoe  Creek.  We  turned  gladly  toward  it. 
There  were  lofty  and  spreading  trees,  standing  widely  asunder, 
and  supporting  a  thick  canopy  of  leaves,  above  a  surface  of  rich, 
tall  grass.  The  stream  ran  swiftly,  as  clear  as  crystal,  through  the 
bosom  of  the  wood,  sparkling  over  its  bed  of  white  sand  and  dark- 
ening again  as  it  entered  a  deep  cavern  of  leaves  and  boughs.  I 
was  thoroughly  exhausted,  and  flung  myself  on  the  ground,  scarcely 
able  to  move.  All  that  afternoon  I  lay  in  the  shade  by  the  side  of 
the  stream,  and  those  bright  woods  and  sparkling  waters  are  asso- 
ciated in  my  mind  with  recollections  of  lassitude  and  utter  pros- 
tration. When  night  came  I  sat  down  by  the  fire,  longing,  with  an 
intensity  of  which  at  this  moment  I  can  hardly  conceive,  for  some 
powerful  stimulant. 


II 


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TUK    ()R1'«;t>N     Tu All, 


\\m\\  \\i^^\Ai\\v  wiMonh'ss.  Wo  mlvmuMMl  Mini  mM>n  won*  Mniin(uii!.,| 
1>v  ti\ll  l>Miv  \\\\U,  ovuMspvc.'wl  fiom  Inp  lo  l)olloin  wilh  piirUlv  pi.-im 
.•\n»l  otluM  r.uti.  tl\;\t  smnrM  hUo  rlin^in^  rrplih-q.  A  pl.nM,  (l.d  ;iii,| 
u.-^Wi.  rtt>«i  ^\^^\^  scuvoly  thf  vx'stij^r  o(  mjiHs,  Im\  Im'Timc  lis.  midI  a 
lino  o(  trtll  nuss1ir\|HM^  Ivors  !>o\inilo(|  llio  omvnnl  virw.  Ihrn  w-i, 
\io  sij^l^t  \M-  soMiui  of  m,\\\  01  l>o;>sl.  or  nm-  living  lln«»ji.  nllli()ii|;|| 
K^hin»i  tbo«?o  i\\H^9.  was  ll\o  louij  looKoil  (01  pl:ui'  of  vomlr/vniK 
xvlun*  wo  foiu'lv  hopo»i  to  \\;\vv  lontwl  tho  IndJMUM  oon|L:1o^:^l(  «|  liy 
lho\isnn»is.  V\  0  lo\>Uo\l  wwA  listono«l  Muxiottslv.  Wo  pnshod  loiw.-ml 
with  onv  Ivst  sjvoil.  wwA  fovvo»l  o\u  horm^s  tlnoni>h  iho  (toos.  Tin  ir 
\UMV  v^>psos  o\  sonio  oxtont  hovotul.  with  a  sranly  si  roam  rm  |iiiii; 
thi>Mijih  thoiv  n\i\is(  ;  i\\\\\  as  wo  pvosstMl  thron^h  tho  yi( Miin- 
hvanohos.  \iaM  spvar.i:  \ip  to  t!\o  li^ht  ai\»l  loft  At  loni^th  wo  t;ni|^lii 
a  j>hoi\pso  of  tho  jMaiiio  hovoiul.  Soon  wo  oinorj^od  upon  i(.  inid 
saw.  not  a  plain  v^non^l  with  onoanipinotits  aiul  swarnunj>  wiili 
hfo.  hnt  a  vast  tn^hroWon  ilosiMt  strotohinm  awav  hoforo  us  lt;\i;iir 
n\XMi  loa^Aio.  without  a  h\ish  ov  a  troo  ov  anytlnnf,  that  ha»l  lilt\  \\V 
^hvw  u^n^  anvl  j^axT  to  tho  wituls  o\n-  sontinuMUs  conoiMtnm;  ilir 
wholo  aNMijcnial  vavv  of  Atnovioa.  Our  jo\n»u\v  was  in  VMii\  aixl 
nuTvh  worso  than  in  vain,  h'ov  tnysolf.  1  was  voxoil  an«l  ilisappntntt'd 
Ivvond  nioastnY ;  as  \  \\\\\  Kntw  that  a  slij^ht  a^^iavation  nl  mv 
dison^or  wonUl  ixMuiov  this  falso  stop  ivrov«H\ahlo.  an<l  inako  it  (|iiitc 
^n'l]\^ssil^lo  to  avWMnplish  otVoctivoly  tho  ilo^ij^n  whioh  lunl  lod  lur  an 
aixhunis  jo\nnoy  of  Ivtwoon  throo  and  foin"  thonsand  niilos.  To 
tvMtifx  nn-^clf  as  w^oU  as  I  ovniUl  aj^aiiist  s\toh  a  ooiitin^otuy.  I  ro- 
solv<\i  that  \  wvniKi  not  ntulor  any  cironnistanoos  attonipt  lo  leave 
tlio  vvimtry  until  \ny  v>hiivt  was  oomplotoly  i;ainotl. 

And  where  wore  tho  Indians?  Vhoy  woro  assomhlod  in  i;iTat 
nnmlvT-s  at  a  S|\^t  aKnit  twenty  miles  ilistant.  and  there  at  that  very 
n^oment  they  wore  enj^aiiovl  in  their  warlike  eeronionios.  Tlio 
scarcity  ot  bnlValo  in  the  vicinity  of  l^i  l^onto's  (.^itnp,  which  \\o\\V\ 
render  tlKir  sup]^ly  of  prvwisions  scanty  and  precarious,  had  pmb- 
aMy  preveritcvi  them  from  assembling  tliore :  but  of  all  this  we  knew 
ncthinj:  until  some  wcvks  after. 

Sliaw  lasluxi  his  horse  and  gallo^xxl  forward,  I,  thotij^h  nuicli 
more  vexed  than  lie,  was  not  strong  enough  to  adopt  this  con- 
x^"'iiient  vent  to  my  feeling-s ;  so  I  followed  at  a  ciniet  pace,  but  in  no 
quiet  mood.  We  roiie  up  to  a  solitary  old  tree,  w'hich  seemed  tiie 


'I'lIK    (  (RK.IKIN    'rHAir. 


I.O 


\]\v  \v<i{  w«M»'  s«»  qrjMililv  ftmii'^li'wl  wlfli  lrnv«"4  flinf  fli^y  (rm(  Imf  n 
ini'.'UM't   f""'  wrt'lilMMl  qlnifN',  niifl  flif  nM  lwiif»''l  (tiirik  ?ilnfif  ffir 
,ii^|ii(|   mtdii  inil    pinlr^linii    ffniii   flic   mm.    Wo   flifw   'I'lwii   our 
^niMli  ^  ill  lln'  ^Hip  "f  ^lifulnw  llinl  if  CMsf,  rni'l  ^;lf  flown  upon  fhrfn 
In  qjli'iil   iii(lif',f»nlin»i  vvf  iciuniiirfl  qftifil<!»ij(   fnr  nn  lioiir   or  fnoro, 
^liiHim:  "HI  sfuMIrs  willi  IliM  sliiftifi^  slififlow,  for  tlir  sfiri  w;m  in 


luln;)l»lv  liol, 


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IIUN'HN(,   INDIANS 


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Art  Am"  wr  IuhI  rrfulirfl  In  I'onfc'c;  (  nmp,  fow;tr<1  wJiirfi  onr  ryf-^ 
lind  ftmuH  SM  Inn^.  <  >f  ;ill  wrjiry  It'Mirs,  tlif>sr  tli;it  pass(<l  l/ffw^'ri 
iiiinii  ;iu(|  minsrf  nf  tlir  dny  wlicfi  Wf  nrrivfd  tlirrr  may  \>v;\r  away 
llic  p;ilin  of  cxqiiisifr  discomfof I.  I  lay  iin'Kr  ffif  Ucr  r^flfrfinj^  on 
wli.il  rniirsr  to  piiistn\  waPliinj^  llu-  rIwkIows  whif  Ii  ^cfrnff]  r\'Vf'r 
toninvc.  'uul  llic  .min  wliidi  rrmaincfl  f'lxrd  in  tlir  sky,  and  hoping 
v\v\y  inomnil  to  src  tlir  niffi  and  lif»rsfs  of  liisonrttf  rmfrj^in^ 
fioni  llic  woods.  Sliaw  and  llftiry  had  riddfn  out  on  a  s^ontin^ 
cxpcdilion,  and  did  n(»f  rcftirn  iintil  the  stin  w;is  sfttinj/.  'Ihcrr  wam 
iiolliiiij,'  very  rlirrrin^^  in  tlirir  facrs  nor  in  tlir  nrws  thry  }>roii^ht 

"\V("  liavr  hern  trn  niilcs  from  lirrr,"  said  Shaw.  "Wf  f liml*fd 
llic  lii^lirst  huttc  wr  could  f'md,  afid  rotild  not  scr  a  hnffalo  (>r  lr\- 
(liaii ;  nolliifi^  l>ut  ]»rairic  for  twrnty  miles  around  ns." 

Henry's  liorsc  was  fpiitr  disabled  hy  rlarn}»erinj(  np  and  f|r>wn 
the  sides  of  ravines,  and  Shaw's  was  severely  fati^Mied. 

After  sn|)per  that  cvvmu^,  as  we  sat  aroimfl  tlie  fire,  f  prr)^K>sed 
to  Sliaw  to  wait  one  day  lon^'er  in  hojx-s  of  f'isonette's  arrival, 
and  if  he  should  not  come  to  serifl  Delorier  with. the  cart  and  ha^- 
gaj^e  hack  to  Iu)rt  Laramie,  while  we  ourselves  followed  The 
Whirlwind's  villaj^^e  and  attempted  to  overtake  it  as  it  passed  the 
Imniiiitains.  Shaw,  not  having  the  same  motive  fr^r  hunting  Indians 
that  I  had,  was  averse  to  the  plan ;  I  therefore  resolved  to  ^o  alone. 
This  design  I  adopted  very  iinwillinj^ly,  for  I  knew  that  in  the 
[present  state  of  my  health  the  attempt  woukl  he  extremely  un- 


>:    ? 


jl 


■\ 


132 


The  Oregon  Trail 


i^'. 


!     i 


I,  I 


te 


pleasant,  and,  as  I  considered,  hazardous.  I  hoped  that  Bisonette 
would  appear  in  the  course  of  the  following  day,  and  bring  us  some 
information  by  which  to  direct  our  course,  and  enable  me  to  ac- 
complish my  purpose  by  means  less  objectionable. 

The  rifle  of  Henry  Chatillon  was  necessary  for  the  subsistence  of 
the  party  in  my  absence ;  so  I  called  Raymond,  and  ordered  him  to 
prepare  to  set  out  with  me.  Raymond  rolled  his  eyes  vacantly  about, 
but  at  length,  having  succeeded  in  grappling  with  the  idea,  he  with- 
drew to  his  bed  under  the  cart.  He  was  a  heavy-molded  fellow, 
with  a  broad  face  exactly  like  an  owl's,  expressing  the  most  im- 
penetrable stupidity  and  entire  self-confidence.  As  for  his  good 
qualities,  he  had  a  sort  of  stubborn  fidelity,  an  insensibility  to 
danger,  and  a  kind  of  instinct  or  sagacity,  which  sometimes  led  him 
right,  where  better  heads  than  his  were  at  a  loss.  Besides  this,  he 
knew  very  well  how  to  handle  a  rifle  and  picket  a  horse. 

Through  the  following  day  the  sun  glared  down  upon  us  with  a 
pitiless,  penetrating  heat.  The  distant  blue  prairie  seemed  quivering 
under  it.  The  lodge  of  our  Indian  associates  was  baking  in  the 
rays,  and  our  rifles,  as  they  leaned  against  the  tree,  were  too  hot  for 
the  touch.  There  was  a  dead  silence  through  our  camp  and  all 
around  it,  unbroken  except  by  the  hum  of  gnats  and  mosquitoes. 
The  men,  resting  their  foreheads  on  their  arms,  were  sleeping 
under  the  cart.  The  Indians  kept  close  within  their  lodge  except  the 
newly  married  pair,  who  were  seated  together  under  an  awning  of 
buffalo  robes,  and  the  old  conjurer,  who,  with  his  hard,  emaciated 
face  and  gaunt  ribs,  was  perched  aloft  like  a  turkey-buzzard  among 
the  dead  branches  of  an  old  tree,  constantly  on  the  lookout  for 
enemies.  He  would  have  made  a  capital  shot.  A  rifle  bullet,  skill- 
fully planted,  would  have  brought  him  tumbling  to  the  ground 
Surely,  I  thought,  there  could  be  no  more  harm  in  shooting  such  a 
hideous  old  villain,  to  see  how  ugly  he  would  look  when  he  was 
dead,  than  in  shooting  the  detestable  vulture  which  he  resembled 
We  dined,  and  then  Shaw  saddled  his  horse. 

"I  will  ride  back,"  said  he,  "to  Horseshoe  Creek,  and  see  it 
Bisonette  is  there." 

**I  would  go  with  you,"  I  answered,  "but  I  must  reserve  all  the 
strengc.i  I  have." 

The  afternoon  dragged  away  at  last.  I  occupied  myself  in  clean- 
ing my  rifle  and  pistols,  and  making  other  preparations  for  the 


The  Oregon  Trail 


133 


journey.  After  supper,  Henry  Chatillon,  and  I  lay  by  the  fire,  dis- 
cussing the  properties  of  that  admirable  weapon,  the  rifle,  in  the 
use  of  which  he  could  fairly  outrival  Leatherstocking  himself. 

It  was  late  before  I  wrapped  myself  in  my  blanket  and  lay  down 
for  the  night,  with  my  head  on  my  saddle.  Shaw  had  not  returned, 
but  this  gave  no  uneasiness,  for  we  presumed  that  he  had  fallen  in 
with  Bisonette,  and  was  spending  the  night  with  him.  For  a  day  or 
two  past  I  had  gained  in  strength  and  health,  but  about  midnight 
an  attack  of  pain  awoke  me,  and  for  some  hours  I  felt  no  inclina- 
tion to  sleep.  The  moon  was  quivering  on  the  broad  breast  of  the 
Platte;  nothing  could  be  heard  except  those  low  inexplicable 
sounds,  like  whisperings  and  footsteps,  which  no  one  who  has  spent 
the  night  alone  amid  deserts  and  forests  will  be  at  a  loss  to  under- 
stand. As  I  was  falling  asleep,  a  familiar  voice,  shouting  from  the 
distance,  awoke  me  again.  A  rapid  step  approached  the  camp,  and 
Shaw  on  foot,  with  his  gun  in  his  hand,  hastily  entered. 

"Where's  your  horse  ?"  said  I,  raising  myself  on  my  elbow. 

"Lost !"  said  Shaw.  "Where's  Delorier  ?" 

"There,"  I  replied,  pointing  to  a  confused  mass  of  blankets  and 
buffalo  robes. 

Shaw  touched  them  with  the  butt  of  his  gun,  and  up  sprang  our 
faithful  Canadian. 

"Come,  Delorier ;  stir  up  the  fire,  and  get  me  something  to  eat." 

"Where's  Bisonette?"  asked  I. 

"The  Lord  knows ;  there's  nobody  at  Horseshoe  Creek." 

Shaw  had  gone  back  to  the  spot  where  we  had  encamped  two 
days  before,  and  finding  nothing  there  but  the  ashes  of  our  fires, 
he  had  tied  his  horse  to  the  tree  while  he  bathed  in  the  stream. 
Something  startled  his  horse,  who  broke  loose,  and  for  two  hours 
Shaw  tried  in  vain  to  catch  him.  Sunset  approached,  and  it  was 
twelve  miles  to  camp.  So  he  abandoned  the  attempt,  and  set  out  on 
foot  to  join  us.  The  greater  part  of  his  perilous  and  solitary  work 
was  performed  in  darkness.  His  moccasins  were  worn  to  tatters  and 
his  feet  severely  lacerated.  He  sat  down  to  eat,  however,  with  the 
usual  equanimity  of  his  temper  not  at  all  disturbed  by  his  mis- 
fortune, and  my  last  recollection  before  falling  asleep  was  of  Shaw, 
seated  cross-legged  before  the  fire,  smoking  his  pipe.  The  horse,  I 
may  as  well  mention  here,  was  found  the  next  morning  by  Henry 
Chatillon. 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


When  I  awoke  again  there  was  a  fresh  damp  smell  in  the  air,  a 
gray  twilight  involved  the  prairie,  and  above  its  eastern  verge  was 
a  streak  of  cold  red  sky.  I  called  to  the  men,  and  in  a  moment  a  fire 
was  blazing  brightly  in  the  dim  morning  light,  and  breakfast  was 
getting  ready.  We  sat  down  together  on  the  grass,  to  the  last  civ- 
ilized meal  which  R.^ymond  and  I  were  destined  to  enjoy  for  some 
time. 

**Now,  bring  in  the  horses." 

My  little  mare  Pauline  was  soon  standing  by  the  fire.  She  was  a 
fleet,  hardy,  and  gentle  animal,  christened  after  Paul  Dorion,  from 
whom  I  had  procured  her  in  exchange  for  Pontiac.  She  did  not 
look  as  if  equipped  for  a  morning  pleasure  ride.  In  front  of  the 
black,  high-bowed  mountain  saddle,  holsters,  with  heavy  pistols, 
were  fastened.  A  pair  of  saddle  bags,  a  blanket  tightly  rolled,  a  small 
parcel  of  Indian  presents  tied  up  in  a  buffalo  skin,  a  leather  bag  o[ 
flour,  and  a  smaller  one  of  tea  were  all  secured  behind,  and  a  lon^ 
trail-rope  was  wound  round  her  neck.  Raymond  had  a  strong  black- 
mule,  equipped  in  a  similar  manner.  We  crammed  our  powder- 
horns  to  the  throat,  and  mounted. 

"I  will  meet  you  at  Fort  Laramie  on  the  ist  of  August,"  said  I 
to  Shaw. 

*That  is,"  replied  he,  *lf  we  don't  meet  before  that.  1  think  I 
shall  follow  after  you  in  a  day  or  two." 

This  in  fact  he  attempted,  and  he  would  have  succeeded  if  he 
had  not  encountered  obstacles  against  which  his  resolute  spirit  was 
of  no  avail.  Two  days  after  I  left  him  he  sent  Delorier  to  the  fort 
with  the  cart  and  baggage,  and  set  out  for  the  mountains  with 
Henry  Chatillon ;  but  a  tremendous  thunderstorm  had  deluged  the 
prairie,  and  nearly  obliterated  not  only  our  trail  hat  that  of  the  In- 
dians themselves.  They  followed  along  the  base  of  the  mountains, 
at  a  loss  in  which  direction  to  go.  They  encamped  there,  and  in  the 
morning  Shaw  found  himself  poisoned  by  ivy  in  such  a  manner  that 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  travel.  So  they  turned  back  reluctantly 
toward  Fort  Laramie.  Shaw's  limbs  were  swollen  to  double  their 
usual  size,  and  he  rode  in  great  pain.  They  encamped  again  within 
twenty  miles  of  the  fort,  and  reached  it  early  on  the  following 
morning.  Shaw  lay  seriously  ill  for  a  week,  and  remained  at  the 
fort  till  I  rejoined  him  some  time  after. 

o  return  to  my  own  story.  We  shook  hands  with  our  friends, 


m 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


135 


rode  out  upon  the  prairie,  and  clambering  the  sandy  hollows  that 
were  channeled  in  the  sides  of  the  hills  gained  the  high  plains 
above.  If  a  curse  had  been  pronounced  upon  the  land  it  could  not 
have  worn  an  aspect  of  more  dreary  and  forlorn  barrenness.  There 
were  abrupt  broken  hills,  deep  hollows,  and  wide  plains ;  but  all 
alike  glared  with  an  insupportable  whiteness  under  the  burning 
sun.  The  country,  as  if  parched  by  the  heat,  had  cracked  into  in- 
numerable fissures  and  ravines,  that  not  a  little  impeded  our 
progress.  Their  steep  sides  were  white  and  raw,  and  along  *^Se  bot- 
tom we  several  times  discovered  the  broad  tracks  of  the  terrific 
grizzly  bear,  nowhere  more  abundant  than  in  this  region.  The 
ridges  of  the  hills  were  hard  as  rock,  and  strewn  with  pebbles  of 
flint  and  coarse  red  jasper ;  looking  from  them,  there  was  nothing 
to  relieve  the  desert  uniformity  of  the  prospect,  save  here  and  there 
a  pine-tree  clinging  at  the  edge  of  a  ravine,  and  stretching  over  its 
rough,  shaggy  arms.  Under  the  scorching  heat  these  melancholy 
trees  diflfused  their  peculiar  resinous  odor  through  the  sultry  air. 
There  was  something  in  it,  as  I  approached  them,  that  recalled  old 
associations ;  the  pine-clad  mountains  of  New  England,  traversed 
in  days  of  health  and  buoyancy,  rose  like  a  reality  before  my  fancy. 
In  passing  that  arid  waste  I  was  goaded  with  a  morbid  thirst  pro- 
duced by  my  disorder,  and  I  thought  with  a  longing  desire  on  the 
crystal  treasure  poured  in  such  wasteful  profusion  from  our  thou- 
sand hills.  Shutting  my  eyes,  I  more  than  half  believed  that  I  heard 
the  deep  plunging  and  gurgling  of  waters  in  the  bowels  of  the 
shaded  rocks.  I  could  see  their  dark  ice  glittering  far  down  amid 
the  crevices,  ^d.  the  cold  drops  trickling  from  the  long  green 

mosses.       /  /  /A- — ' 

on  came,  we  found  a  little  stream,  with  a  few  trees  and 
bushv-s;  and  here  we  rested  for  an  hour.  Then  we  traveled  on, 
guided  by  the  sun,  until,  just  before  si:nset,  we  reached  another 
stream,  called  Bitter  Cotton-wood  Creek.  A  thick  growth  of  bushes 
and  old  storm-beaten  trees  grew  at  intervals  along  its  bank.  Near 
the  foot  of  one  of  the  trees  we  flung  down  our  saddles,  and  hob- 
bhng  our  horses  turned  them  loose  to  feed.  The  little  stream  was 
clear  and  swift,  and  ran  musically  on  its  white  sands.  Small  water 
birds  were  splashing  in  the  shallows,  and  filling  the  air  with  their 
cries  and  flutterings.  The  sun  was  just  sinking  among  gold  and 
crimson  clouds  behind  Mount  Laramie.  I  well  remember  how  I  lay 


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Thk  Orki.on  Trail 


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upon  a  log  by  (he  margin  of  the  water,  ami  \vatehe«l  the  restless  mo- 
tions of  the  little  fish  in  a  iWvy  still  nonk  helow.  vStranjje  to  say.  I 
seemed  to  have  gained  strength  since  the  morning,  and  almost  felt 
a  setise  of  returning  health. 

We  hnilt  oin"  tire.  Night  eame.  and  the  wolves  hegan  to  howl.  ( )i)' 
deep  voice  commenced,  and  it  was  answered  in  awfnl  resp( tires 
from  the  hills,  the  plains,  and  the  woods  along  the  stream  al ovc 
and  helow  ns.  Sttch  soinids  need  not  and  do  not  disttnh  one's  srcp 
npon  the  prairie.  We  picketed  the  mare  and  the  mnle  close  al  our 
feet,  aiul  did  not  wake  tnitil  daylight.  Then  we  Inrned  them  loose, 
still  hohhled,  to  feed  for  an  hotir  before  starting.  We  were  geltitii; 
ready  owv  morning's  meal,  when  Raymond  saw  an  antelope  at  lialf 
a  mile's  distance,  and  said  he  wonUl  go  and  shoot  it. 

"Vonr  bnsiness."  said  I,  "is  to  look  after  the  animals.  T  am  ton 
weak  to  do  much,  if  anything  ha])|>ens  to  them,  and  yon  mnst  krcp 
within  sight  of  the  camp." 

K.iymond  promised,  and  set  out  with  his  rifle  in  his  hand.  The 
animals  had  passed  across  the  stream,  and  were  feeding  amon^  tlic 
long  grass  on  the  other  side,  mnch  tormented  by  the  attacks  ol  the 
numerons  large  green-headed  flies.  As  1  watched  them,  I  saw  tluiii 
go  down  into  a  hollow,  and  as  several  minutes  elapsed  without  llicir 
rcai^pearing,  I  waded  through  the  stream  to  look  after  them.  To 
my  vexation  and  alarm  I  discovered  them  at  a  great  distance,  gal- 
loping aw\ay  at  full  speed,  Pauline  in  advance,  with  her  hobbles 
broken,  and  the  nuile.  still  fettered,  following  with  awkward  leaps. 
I  lired  my  rifle  and  shouted  to  recall  Raymond.  In  a  moment  he 
came  running  through  the  stream,  with  a  red  handkerchief  bound 
round  his  head.  I  pointed  to  the  fugitives,  and  ordered  him  to  pur- 
sue them.  Muttering  a  "Sucre!"  between  his  teeth,  he  set  out  at  full 
sj^ed,  still  swinging  his  rifle  in  his  hand.  I  walked  up  to  the  top  of  a 
hill,  and  looking  away  over  the  prairie,  could  just  distinguish  the 
runaways,  still  at  full  gallop.  Returning  to  the  fire,  I  sat  down  at 
the  foot  of  a  tree.  Wearily  and  anxiously  hour  after  hour  passed 
away.  The  old  loose  bark  dangling  from  the  trunk  behind  me 
flapped  to  and  fro  in  the  wind,  and  the  mosquitoes  kept  up  their 
incessant  drowsy  humming ;  but  other  than  this,  there  was  no  sight 
nor  sound  of  life  throughout  the  burning  landscape.  The  sun  rose 
higher  and  higher,  until  the  shadows  fell  almost  perpendicularly, 
and  I  knew  that  it  must  be  noon.  It  seemed  scarcely  possible  that 


Tiir,  OHWiON  Ti<Art, 


137 


tlir  atn'nials  cotild  br  rrrnvrrrd.  [f  tliry  wrrr  tint,  my  sitnatiofi  was 
one  nf  srriniis  dinicdlly.  Shaw,  wlicn  I  left  liim  had  decided  to 
fnttvc  that  innrniii^,  hut  whither  \\v  had  tint  dct<'riiiiiier|.  'In  look 
lot  him  wonM  he  a  vain  attempt.  I'ott  Laramie  was  fr»rty  miles 
distant,  and  I  cnnld  in»t  wall<  a  mile  without  ^reat  efTctrt.  Not  then 
havitii:  learned  the  snmid  |>hilns(»))hy  of  yielding'  to  disproportionate 
nhstarles.  I  restOved  to  i<»titimie  in  any  event  the  piirsnit  of  the  In- 
dians. (  >nly  one  plan  (»ecnrred  to  me;  this  was  t(»  send  Kaymonrl  to 
the  fort  with  ati  or<ler  for  more  horses,  while  I  remained  on  the 
spot,  awaiting;  his  rtMiirii,  which  mij^dif  take  plaee  within  three  days. 
Iltit  the  a'lnption  of  this  resolution  did  not  wholly  allay  my  anxiety, 
for  it  involved  h(»th  uncertainty  and  datij^'er.  To  remain  statiotiary 
and  alniie  for  three  days,  in  a  eotintry  full  of  dangerous  Indians, 
was  lint  the  nmst  flatterinj^  of  prospects;  and  protracted  as  my  In- 
dian hunt  tmist  he  hy  stich  delay  ;  it  was  not  easy  to  ff>retell  its 
ultiniate  result.  Revolving  these  matters,  f  j^rew  Imtif^'ry ;  and  as 
our  stock  of  pr(»visions,  except  four  or  five  pounds  of  flonr,  was 
l»y  this  time  exhausted,  I  left  the  cani|>  to  sec  what  ^nme  I  could 
find.  N'othinj^  cotild  he  seen  except  four  or  five  lar^^e  curlew,  which, 
with  their  loud  screaming,  were  wheeling'  over  my  head,  an<l  now 
atnl  then  ali^htin^  ttpon  the  prairie,  f  shot  two  of  them,  and  was 
aluMit  returning,  when  a  startlin<^'  si^^jht  caught  my  eye.  A  small, 
(lark  nhject.  like  a  liutTian  head,  suddenly  ap|)eared,  and  vanished 
atnniif,'  the  thick  hushes  alon^  the  stream  l)elf)W.  In  that  country 
every  stratiger  is  a  suspected  enemy.  Instinctively  I  threw  forward 
the  tiiuzzle  of  my  rifle.  In  a  moment  the  hushes  were  violently 
shaken,  two  heads,  hut  not  human  heads,  i>rotruded,  and  to  my 
f,'reat  joy  I  recognized  the  downcast,  di.sconsolate  countenance  of 
the  hiack  mule  and  the  yellow  visage  of  Pauline.  Kaymr)nd  came 
iij)oii  the  mule,  pale  and  haggard,  complaining  of  a  fiery  pain  in  his 
chest.  I  took  charge  of  the  animals  wh^le  he  kneeled  dr)wn  by  the 
side  of  the  stream  to  drink.  He  had  kept  the  runaways  in  sight  as 
far  as  the  Side  Fork  of  I^ramie  Creek,  a  distance  of  more  than 
ten  miles ;  and  here  with  great  difficulty  he  harl  succeeded  in  catch- 
ing them.  I  saw  that  he  was  unarmed,  and  asked  him  what  he  had 
done  with  his  rifle.  It  had  encumbered  him  in  his  pursuit,  and  he 
had  dropped  it  on  the  prairie,  thinking  that  he  could  find  it  on  his 
return;  but  in  this  he  had  failed.  The  loss  might  prove  a  very 
formidable  one.  I  was  too  much  rejoiced  however  at  the  recovery 


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138 


TiiK  Orkcon  Trait, 


of  the  aninin^  to  think  tniioli  about  it  ;  aii<l  having  inadr  M»»tiir  ten 
for  Kaynioiul  in  a  tin  vessel  whirli  we  had  hron^ht  with  ns.  I  lull 
him  tliat  !  wonM  ^ive  him  two  lionrs  for  resting'  hetme  we  set  out 
a^ain.  He  ha<l  eaten  nothing;  that  <lay  ;  hnt  having  no  appetite,  lir 
lay  down  immediately  to  sleep  1  pitketed  the  animals  amonj^;  the 
richest  ^Mass  that  1  eotild  hnd.  and  made  hres  (tf  ^^reen  wood  tn  pro- 
kvt  them  from  the  Hies;  then  sitting!;  down  aj^ain  hy  the  tree.  1 
watched  the  slow  movements  of  the  snn.  he^^nid^in^  every  ino- 
uicnt  that  passed. 
(,tj  The  time  I  had  mentione<l  expired,  and  I  awoke  Raymond.  We 
'  saddled  and  set  out  a.i;ain,  htit  fust  we  v/ent  in  search  of  the  lost 
rirto,  and  in  the  cotnse  oi  an  hour  Raymond  was  fortunate  enoiij^'Ii 
to  tind  it.  Then  we  turned  westward,  and  moved  over  the  hills  .iiid 
holknvs  at  a  slow  pace  toward  the  Hlack  Hills.  The  heat  no  loiimr 
t«Miuented  us,  for  a  cloud  was  hefore  the  sim.  Vet  that  day  shall 
never  he  marked  with  white  in  my  calendar.  The  air  he^an  to  ^mw 
fresh  and  cool,  the  distant  mountains  frowned  more  gloomily, 
there  was  a  low  nmtterinj;  of  thunder,  and  dense  hlack  masses  (if 
cloud  rose  heavily  hehind  the  hroken  peaks.  At  hrst  they  were 
t;ayly  fringed  with  silver  hy  the  afternoon  sun,  hut  soon  the  thick 
hlackness  overspread  the  whole  sky.  and  the  desert  around  us  wa; 
wrapped  in  deep  .q;loom.  I  scarcely  heeded  it  at  the  time,  hut  now  ' 
cannot  hut  feel  that  there  was  an  awful  sublimity  in  the  hoarse 
murnuu'ing  of  the  thunder,  in  the  somber  shadows  that  involved  tlic 
mountains  and  the  plain.  The  storm  broke.  It  came  upon  us  with  a 
zigzag  blinding  flash,  with  a  terrific  crash  of  thunder,  and  with  a 
hurricane  that  howled  over  the  prairie,  dashing  floods  of  water 
5u;^ainst  us.  Raymond  looked  round,  and  cursed  the  merciless  ele- 
ments. There  seemed  no  shelter  near,  but  we  discerned  at  len.uth 
a  deep  ravine  gashed  in  the  level  prairie,  and  saw  half  way  down  its 
side  an  old  pine  tree,  whose  rough  horizontal  boughs  formed  a  sort 
of  penthouse  against  the  tempest.  We  found  a  practicable  passage, 
and  hastily  descending,  fastened  our  animals  to  some  large  loose 
stones  at  the  bottom ;  then  climbing  up,  we  drew  our  blankets  over 
our  heads,  and  seated  ourselves  close  beneath  the  old  tree.  Perhai)s  I 
was  no  competent  judge  of  time,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  we  were 
sitting  there  a  full  hour,  while  around  us  poured  a  deluge  of  rain, 
through  which  the  rocks  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  gulf  were 
barely  visible.  The  first  burst  of  the  tempest  soon  subsided,  but  the 


N 


rain  iM)iirr(l  steadily.  At  length  KaytnotuI  \^rvw  itn|»atirfit,  atid 
SI  ramlilinK  <"'<  "^  ''"'  ravine,  he  ^'aiiied  the  l<'vel  prai?  ie  al»nve.  fjfj 

"\\  hat  does  the  weather  hmk  hke?"  asked  I,  fr(»ni  fiiy  seat  ttnner 
tlic  tree. 

"It  Indks  ha<l."  he  answered;  "dark  all  arnund,"  and  a^ain  he 
(Icsotided  and  sat  down  hy  my  side.  Some  ten  niitnites  elapserl. 

"( in  np  a^aii],"  said  I.  "and  take  anotlier  look  ;"  and  he  elanihered 
tip  the  preeipiee.  "Well,  how  is  it?" 

"Just  the  same,  only  1  see  one  little  hri^ht  spot  over  the  top  of 
the  mountain. " 

The  rain  hy  this  time  had  hej^'un  to  ahate  ;  and  >^(»in^  down  to  the 
bottom  of  the  ravine,  we  loosened  the  animals,  who  were  standing 
up  to  their  knees  in  water.  Leading;  them  uj)  the  rocky  throat  of  the 
ravine,  wc  reached  the  plain  ahovc.  "Am  I,"  I  thought  to  myself, 
"tlic  same  man  who  a  few  months  since,  was  seated,  a  quiet  student 
of  hrlli's-lcitrcs,  in  a  cushioned  arm-chair  hy  a  sea-coal  hre?" 

All  around  us  was  ohsctirity ;  hut  the  hri^dit  spot  ahove  the 
mountain-tops  j^rew  wider  and  ruddier,  until  at  len^'th  the  clouds 
(liTvv  apart,  and  a  flcjod  of  sun'  cams  poured  d(»wn  from  heaven, 
strcaininj^  alon^  the  precipices,  and  involving'  them  in  a  thin  hlue 
haze,  as  soft  and  lovely  as  that  which  wraps  the  Apennines  on  an 
evening  in  s|)rin^^  Rapidly  the  clouds  were  hr  )ken  and  scattered, 
like  routed  lej^ions  of  evil  spirits.  The  plain  lay  haskin^  in  sunl>eams 
around  us;  a  rainhow  arched  the  desert  from  north  to  south,  and 
far  in  front  a  line  of  woods  seemed  inviting  us  to  refreshment  and 
rt'jMise.  When  we  reached  them,  they  were  glistening  with  pris- 
matic (lewdrops,  and  enlivened  hy  the  song  and  fltitterings  of  a 
liundred  hirds.  Strange  winged  insects,  l>enumhed  hy  the  rain,  were 
cliiij^ing  to  the  leaves  and  the  hark  of  the  trees.  '^ 

Raymond  kindled  a  fire  with  great  difificulty.  The  animals  turned 
ca^Trly  to  feed  on  the  soft  rich  grass,  while  I,  wrapping  myself  in 
my  blanket,  lay  down  and  gazed  on  the  evening  landscap)e.  The 
mountains,  whose  stern  features  had  lowered  upon  us  with  so 
j,'loomy  and  awful  a  frown,  now  seemed  lighted  up  with  a  serene, 
I)eiiignant  smile,  and  the  green  waving  undulations  of  the  plain  were 
gladdened  with  the  rich  sunshine.  Wet,  ill,  and  wearied  as  I  was, 
my  spirit  grew  lighter  at  the  view,  and  I  drew  from  it  an  augury 
of  good  for  my  future  prosj)ects. 

When   morning    came,    Raymond    awoke,    coughing    violently. 


^  i> 


■  I' 


' 


i  ! 


iV 


Mi 


|=it 


it! 


il 


I 


Ik 


1,  ■ 


';i\ 


140 


The  Oregon  Trail 


though  I  had  apparently  received  no  injury.  Wc  mounted,  crossed 
the  little  vStrcani,  pushed  through  the  trees,  and  hegan  our  journey 
over  the  plain  ueyond.  And  now,  as  we  rode  slowly  alonj^,  we 
looked  anxiously  on  evc-y  hand  for  traces  of  the  Indians,  not 
doubting  that  the  village  had  passed  somewhere  in  that  vicinity; 
but  the  scanty  shriveled  grass  was  not  more  than  three  or  four 
inches  high,  aiid  the  ground  was  of  such  unyielding  hardness  that 
a  host  might  have  marched  over  it  and  left  scarcely  a  trace  of  its 
passage.  Up  hill  and  down  hill,  and  clambering  through  ravines, 
we  continued  our  journey.  \s  we  were  skirting  the  foot  of  a  hill  I 
saw  Raymond,  who  was  some  rods  in  advance,  suddenly  jerking 
the  reins  of  his  nuile.  Sliding  from  his  seat,  and  running  in  a 
crouching  posture  up  a  hollow,  he  disappeared ;  and  then  in  an 
instant  I  heard  the  sharp  quick  crack  of  his  rifle.  A  wounded  ante- 
lope cajiie  running  on  three  legs  over  the  hill.  I  lashed  Pauline  and 
made  after  him.  My  fleet  little  mare  soon  brought  me  bv  his  sidp, 
and  after  leaping  and  bounding  for  a  few  moments  in  vain,  he 
stood  still,  as  :f  despairing  of  escape.  His  glistening  eyes  turned 
up  toward  my  face  with  so  piteous  a  look  that  it  Vvas  with  feelings 
of  infinite  compunction  that  I  shot  him  through  the  head  with  a 
pistol.  Raymond  skinned  and  cut  him  up,  and  we  hung  the  fore- 
quarters  to  our  saddles,  much  rejoiced  that  our  exhausted  stock  of 
provisions  was  reviewed  in  such  good  time. 

Gaining  the  top  of  a  hill  we  could  see  along  the  cloudy  verge  of 
the  prairi^  be  Tore  us  lines  of  trees  and  shadowy  groves  that  marked 
the  course  of  Laramie  Creek.  Some  time  before  noon  we  reached 
its  banks  and  began  anxiously  to  search  them  for  footprints  of  the 
Indians.  We  followed  the  stream  for  several  miles,  now  on  the 
shore  and  now  wading  in  the  water,  scrutinizing  every  sand-bar 
and  every  nmddy  bank.  So  long  was  the  search  that  we  began  to 
fear  that  we  had  left  the  trail  undiscovered  behind  us.  At  length  I 
heard  Raymond  shouting,  and  saw  him  jump  from  his  mule  to  | 
examine  some  object  under  the  shelving  bank.  I  rode  up  to  his  side.| 
It  was  the  clear  and  palpable  impression  of  an  Indian  moccasin, 
Encouraged  by  this  we  continued  our  search,  and  at  last  some  ap-j 
pearances  on  a  soft  surface  of  earth  not  far  from  the  shore  at- 
tracted my  eye ;  and  going  to  examine  them  I  found  half  a  dozen j 
tracks,  some  made  by  men  and  some  by  children.  Just  then  Ray- 
mond observed  across  the  stream  the  mouth  of  a  small  branch  en-l 


Kit 


The  Oregon  Trail 


141 


tering  it  from  the  south.  He  forded  the  water,  rode  in  at  the  open- 
ing, and  in  a  moment  I  heard  him- shouting  again,  so  I  ])asscd  over 
and  joined  him.  The  little  branch  had  a  broad  sandy  bed,  along 
which  the  water  trickled  in  a  scanty  stream ;  and  on  either  bank 
the  bushes  wert  so  close  that  the  view  was  completely  intercepted. 
I  found  Raymond  stooping  over  the  footprints  of  three  or  four 
horses.  Proceeding  we  found  those  of  a  man,  then  those  of  a  child, 
then  those  of  more  horses ;  and  at  last  the  bushes  on  each  bank 
were  beaten  down  and  broken,  and  the  sand  i)lowed  up  with  a 
multitude  of  footstepii,  and  scored  across  with  the  furrows  made 
by  the  lodge-poles  that  had  been  dragged  through.  It  was  now  cer- 
tain that  we  had  found  the  trail.  I  pushed  through  the  bushes,  and 
at  a  little  distance  on  the  prairie  beyond  found  the  ashes  of  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  lodge  fires,  with  bones  and  pieces  of  buffalo  rol)es 
scattered  around  them,  and  in  some  instances  the  pickets  to  which 
horses  had  been  secured  still  standing  in  the  ground.  Elated  by 
our  success  we  selected  a  convenient  tree,  and  turning  the  animals 
loose,  prepared  to  make  a  meal  from  the  fat  haunch  of  our  victim. 
Hardship  and  exposure  had  thriven  with  me  wonderfully.  I  had 
gained  both  health  and  strength  since  leaving  La  Bonte's  Camp. 
Raymond  and  I  made  a  hearty  meal  together  in  high  spir  its,  for  we 
rashly  presumed  that  having  found  onq  end  of  the  trail  we  should 
have  little  difficulty  in  reaching  the  other.  But  when  the  animals 
v^ere  led  in  we  found  that  our  old  ill  luck  had  not  ceased  to  follow 
us  close.  As  I  was  saddling  Pauline  I  saw  that  her  eye  was  as  dull 
as  lead,  and  the  hue  of  her  yellow  coat  visibly  darkened.  I  placed 
my  foot  in  the  stirrup  to  mount,  when  instantly  she  staggered 
and  fell  flat  on  her  side.  Gaining  her  feet  with  an  effort  she  stood 
by  the  fire  with  a  drooping  head.  Whether  she  had  been  bitten  by 
a  snake  or  poisoned  by  some  noxious  plant  or  attacked  by  a  sudden 
disorder,  it  was  hard  to  say ;  but  at  all  events  her  sickness  was  suf- 
ficiently ill-timed  and  unfortunate.  I  succeeded  in  a  second  attempt 
to  mount  her,  and  with  a  slow  pace  we  moved  forward  on  the 
trail  of  the  Indians.  It  led  us  up  a  hill  and  over  a  dreary  plain ; 
and  here,  to  our  great  mortification,  the  traces  almost  disappeared, 
for  the  ground  was  hard  as  adamant ;  and  if  its  flinty  surface  had 
ever  retained  the  print  of  a  hoof,  the  marks  had  been  washed  away 
by  the  deluge  of  yesterday.  An  Indian  village,  in  its  disorderly 
march,  is  scattered  over  the  pnvrie,  often  to  the  width  of  full  half 


»  . 


wK  ■ 


142 


The  Oregon  Trail 


H 


A  mile ;  so  that  its  trail  is  nowhere  clearly  marked,  and  the  task 
of  following  it  is  made  doubly  wearisome  and  difficult.  By  good 
fortune  plenty  of  large  ant-hills,  a  yard  or  more  in  diameter,  were 
scattered  over  the  plain,  and  these  were  frequently  broken  by  the 
footprints  of  men  and  horses,  aad  marked  by  traces  of  the  lodge- 
poles.  The  succulent  leaves  of  ^:he  prickly-pear,  also  bruised  from 
the  same  causes,  helped  a  little  to  guide  us;  so  inch  by  inch  we 
moved  along.  Often  we  lost  the  trail  altogether,  and  then  would 
recover  it  again,  but  late  in  the  afternoon  we  found  ourselves 
totally  at  fault.  We  stood  alone  without  clew  to  guide  us.  The 
broken  plain  expanded  for  league  after  league  around  us,  and  in 
front  the  long  dark  ridge  of  mountains  was  stretching  from  north 
to  south.  Mount  Laramie,  a  little  on  our  right,  towered  high  above 
the  rest  and  from  a  dark  valley  just  beyond  one  of  its  lower  declivi- 
ties, we  discerned  volumes  of  white  smoke  slowly  rolling  up  into 
the  clear  air. 

"I  think,"  said  Raymond,  "some  Indians  must  be  there.  Per- 
haps we  had  better  go."  But  this  plan  was  not  rashly  to  be  adopted, 
and  we  determined  still  to  continue  our  search  after  the  lost  trail. 
Our  good  stars  prompted  us  to  this  decision,  for  we  afterward 
had  reason  to  believe,  from  information  given  us  by  the  Indians, 
that  the  smoke  was  raised  as  a  decoy  by  a  Crow  war  party. 

Evening  was  coming  on,  and  there  was  no  wood  or  water  nearer 
than  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  So  thither  we  turned,  directing  our 
course  toward  the  point  where  Laramie  Creek  issues  forth  upon 
the  prairie.  When  we  reached  it  the  bare  tops  of  the  mountains 
were  still  brightened  with  sunshine.  The  little  river  was  breaking 
with  a  vehement  and  angry  current  from  its  dark  prison.  There 
was  something  in  the  near  vicinity  of  the  mountains,  in  the  loud 
surging  of  the  rapids,  wonderfully  cheering  and  exhilarating ;  for 
although  once  as  familiar  as  home  itself,  they  had  been  for  months 
strangers  to  my  experience.  There  was  a  rich  grass-plot  by  the 
river's  bank,  surrounded  by  low  ridges,  which  would  effectually 
screen  ourselves  and  our  fire  from  the  sight  of  wandering  Indians. 
Here  among  the  grass  I  observed  numerous  circles  of  large  stones, 
which,  as  Raymond  said,  were  traces  of  a  Dakota  winter  encamp- 
ment. We  lay  down  and  did  not  awake  till  the  sun  was  up.  A  large 
rock  projected  from  the  shore,  and  behind  it  the  deep  water  was 
slowly  eddying  round  and  round.  The  temptation  was  irresistible. 


2. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


143 


I  threw  off  my  clothes,  leaped  in,  suffered  myself  to  be  borne  once 
round  with  the  current,  and  then,  seizing  the  strong  root  of  a  water- 
plant,  drew  myself  to  the  shore.  The  effect  was  so  invigorating  and 
refreshing  that  I  mistook  it  for  returning  health.  "Pauline,"  thought 
I,  as  I  led  the  little  mare  up  to  be  saddled,  "only  thrive  as  I  do,  and 
you  and  I  will  have  sport  yet  among  the  buffalo  beyond  these  moun- 
tains." But  scarcely  were  we  mounted  and  on  our  way  before  the 
momentary  glow  passed.  Again  I  hung  as  usual  in  my  seat,  scarcely 
able  to  hold  myself  erect. 

"Look  yonder,"  said  Raymond ;  "you  see  that  big  hollow  there ; 
the  Indians  must  have  gone  that  way,  if  they  went  anywhere  about 
he.e." 

We  reached  the  gap,  which  was  like  a  deep  notch  cut  into  the 
mountain  ridge,  and  here  we  soon  discerned  an  ant-hill  furrowed 
with  the  mark  of  a  lodge-pole.  This  was  quite  enough ;  there  could 
be  no  doubt  now.  As  we  rode  on,  the  opening  growing  narrower, 
the  Indians  had  been  compelled  to  march  in  closer  order,  and  the 
traces  became  numerous  and  distinct.  The  gap  terminated  in  a 
rocky  gateway,  leading  into  a  rough  passage  upward,  between  two 
precipitous  mountains.  Here  grass  and  weeds  were  bruised  to  frag- 
ments by  the  throng  that  had  passed  through.  We  moved  slowly  over 
the  rocks,  up  the  passage;  and  in  this  toilsome  manner  we  ad- 
vanced for  an  hour  or  two,  bare  precipices,  hundreds  of  feet  high» 
shooting  up  on  either  hand.  Raymond,  with  his  hardy  mule,  was  a 
few  rods  before  me,  when  we  came  to  the  foot  of  an  ascent  steeper 
than  the  rest,  and  which  I  trusted  might  prove  the  highest  point 
of  the  defile.  Pauline  strained  upward  for  a  few  yards,  moaning 
and  stumbling,  and  then  came  to  a  dead  stop,  unable  to  proceed 
further.  I  dismounted,  and  attempted  to  lead  her ;  but  my  own  ex- 
hausted strength  soon  gave  out ;  so  I  loosened  the  trail-rope  from 
her  neck,  and  tying  it  round  my  arm,  crawled  up  on  my  hands  and 
knees.  I  gained  the  top,  totally  exhausted,  the  sweat  drops  trickling 
from  my  forehead.  Pauline  stood  like  a  statue  by  my  side,  her 
shadow  falling  upon  the  scorching  rock ;  and  in  this  shade,  for  there 
was  no  other,  I  lay  for  some  time,  scarcely  able  to  move  a  limb. 
All  around  the  Black  crags,  sharp  as  needles  at  the  top,  stood  glow- 
ing in  the  sun,  without  a  tree,  or  a  bush,  or  a  blade  of  grass,  to  cover 
their  precipitous  sides.  The  whole  scene  seemed  parched  with  a  piti- 
less, insufferable  heat. 


■ 


Ml 


! 


i 


I.    f 


•     I 


M. 

hi' 


144 


The  Oregon  Trail 


'h 


^ 


After  a  while  I  could  mount  again,  and  we  moved  on,  descend- 
ing the  rocky  defile  on  its  western  side.  Thinking  of  that  morning's 
journey,  it  has  sometimes  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  something 
ridiculous  in  my  position;  a  man,  armed  to  the  teeth,  but  wholly 
unable  to  fight,  and  equally  so  to  run  away,  traversing  a  dangerous 
y  wilderness,  on  a  sick  horse.  But  these  thoughts  were  retrospective, 
for  at  the  time  I  was  in  too  grave  a  mood  to  entertain  a  very  lively 
sense  of  the  ludicrous. 

Raymond's  saddle-girth  slipped ;  and  while  I  proceeded  he  was 
stopping  behind  to  repair  the  mischief.  I  came  to  the  top  of  a  little 
declivity,  where  a  most  welcome  sight  greeted  my  eye ;  a  nook  of 
fresh  green  grass  nestled  among  the  cliffs,  sunny  clumps  of  bushes 
on  one  side,  and  shaggy  old  pine  trees  leaning  forward  from  the 
rocks  on  the  other.  A  shrill,  familiar  voice  saluted  me,  and  re- 
called me  to  days  of  boyhood ;  that  of  the  insect  called  the  "locust" 
by  New  England  schoolboys,  which  was  fast  clinging  among  the 
heated  boughs  of  the  old  pine  trees.  Then,  too,  as  I  passed  the 
bushes,  the  low  sound  of  falling  water  reached  my  ear.  Pauline 
turned  of  her  own  accord,  and  pushing  through  the  boughs  we 
found  a  black  rock,  over-arched  by  the  cool  green  canopy.  An  icy 
stream  was  pouring  from  its  side  into  a  wide  basin  of  white  sand, 
from  whence  it  had  no  visible  outlet,  but  filtered  through  into  the 
soil  below.  While  I  filled  a  tin  cup  at  the  spring,  Pauline  was 
eagerly  plunging  her  head  deep  in  the  pool.  Other  visitors  had  been 
there  before  us.  All  around  in  the  soft  soil  were  the  footprints  of 
elk,  deer,  and  the  Rocky  Mountain  sheep ;  and  the  grizzly-bear  too 
had  left  the  recent  prints  of  his  broad  foot,  with  its  frightful  array 
^  of  claws.  Among  these  mountains  was  his  home. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  spring  we  found  a  little  grassy  plain, 
encircled  by  the  rrountains,  and  marked,  to  our  great  joy,  with  all 
the  traces  of  an  Indian  camp.  Raymond's  practiced  eye  detected 
certain  signs  by  which  he  recognized  the  spot  where  Reynal's  lodge 
had  been  pitched  and  his  horses  picketed.  I  approached,  and  stood 
looking  at  the  plj.ce.  Reynal  and  I  had,  I  believe,  hardly  a  feeling  in 
common.  I  disliked  the  fellow,  and  it  perplexed  me  a  good  deal  to 
understand  why  I  should  look  with  so  much  interest  on  the  ashes 
of  his  fire,  when  between  him  and  me  there  seemed  no  other  bond 
of  sympathy  than  the  slender  and  precaripixs  one  of  a  kindred  race. 

In  half  an  hour  from  this  we  were  clear  of  the  mountains.  There 


The  Oregon  Trail 


145 


was  a  plain  before  us,  totally  barren  and  thickly  peopled  in  many 
parts  with  the  little  prairie  dogs,  who  sat  at  the  mouths  of  their  bur- 
rows and  yelped  at  us  as  we  passed.  The  plain,  as  we  thought,  was 
about  six  miles  wide;  but  it  cost  us  two  hours  to  cross  it.  Then 
another  mountain  range  rose  before  us,  grander  and  more  wild 
than  the  last  had  been.  Far  out  of  the  dense  shrubbery  that  clothed 
the  steeps  for  a  thousand  feet  shot  up  black  crags,  all  leaning  one 
way,  and  shattered  by  storms  and  thunder  into  grim  and  threaten- 
ing shapes.  As  we  entered  a  narrow  passage  on  the  trail  of  the 
Indians,  they  impended  frightfully  on  one  side,  above  our  heads. 

Our  course  was  through  dense  woods,  in  the  shade  and  twinkling 
sunlight  of  overhanging  boughs.  I  would  I  could  recall  to  mind  all 
the  startling  combinations  that  presented  themselves,  as  winding 
from  side  to  side  of  the  passage,  to  avoid  its  obstructions,  we 
could  see,  glancing  at  intervals  through  the  foliage,  the  awful  forms 
of  the  gigantic  cliffs,  that  seemed  at  times  to  hem  us  in  on  the  right 
and  on  the  left,  before  us  and  behind !  Another  scene  in  a  few  mo- 
ments greeted  us ;  a  tract  of  gray  and  sunny  woods,  broken  into 
knolls  and  hollows,  enlivened  by  birds  and  interspersed  with  flow- 
ers. Among  the  rest  I  recognized  the  mellow  whistle  of  the  roHn, 
an  old  familiar  friend  whom  I  had  scarce  expected  to  meet  in  such 
a  place.  Humble-bees  too  were  buzzing  heavily  about  the  flowers ; 
and  of  these  a  species  of  larkspur  caught  my  eye,  more  appropriate, 
it  should  seem,  to  cultivate3*g2rfdens  than  to  a  remote  wilderness. 
Instantly  it  recalled  a  multitude  of  dormant  and  delightful  recol- 
lections. 

Leaving  behind  us  this  spot  and  its  associations,  a  sight  soon 
presented  itself,  characteristic  of  that  warlike  region.  In  an  open 
space,  fenced  in  by  high  rocks,  stood  two  Indian  forts,  of  a  square 
form,  rudely  built  of  sticks  and  logs.  They  were  somewhat  ruinous, 
having  probably  been  constructed  the  year  before.  Each  might  have 
contained  about  twenty  men.  Perhaps  in  this  gloomy  spot  some 
party  had  been  beset  by  their  enemies,  and  those  scowling  rocks 
and  blasted  trees  might  not  long  since  have  looked  down  on  a  con- 
flict unchronicled  and  unknown.  Yet  if  any  traces  of  bloodshed  re- 
mained they  were  completely  hidden  by  the  bushes  and  tall  rank 
weeds. 

Gradually  the  mountains  drew  apart,  and  the  passage  expanded 
into  a  plain,  where  again  we  found  traces  of  an  Indian  encamp- 


V 


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Si  I-  ' 


146 


The  Oregon  Trail 


iff  p^" 


.'i 


^^i-. 


ment.  There  were  trees  and  bushes  just  before  us,  and  we  stopped 
here  for  an  hour's  rest  and  refreshment.  When  we  had  finished  our 
meal  Ra)miond  struck  fire,  and  Hghting  his  pipe,  sat  down  at  the 
foot  of  a  tree  to  smoke.  For  some  time  I  observed  him  puffing  away 
with  a  face  of  unusual  solemnity.  Then  slowly  taking  the  pipe  from 
his  lips,  he  looked  up  and  remarked  that  we  had  better  not  go  any 
farther. 

"Why  not  ?"  asked  I. 

He  said  that  the  country  was  becoming  very  dangerous,  that 
we  were  entering  the  range  of  the  Snakes,  Arapahoes  and  Gros- 
ventre  Blackfeet,  and  that  if  any  of  their  wandering  parties  should 
meet  us,  it  would  cost  us  our  lives;  but  he  added,  with  a  blunt 
fidelity  that  nearly  reconciled  me  to  his  stupidity,  that  he  would  go 
anywhere  I  wished.  I  told  him  to  bring  up  the  animals,  and  mount- 
ing them  we  proceeded  again.  I  confess  that,  as  we  moved  forward, 
the  prospect  seemed  but  a  dreary  and  doubtful  one.  I  would  have 
given  the  world  for  my  ordinary  elasticity  of  body  and  mind,  and 
for  a  horse  of  such  strength  and  spirit  as  the  journey  required. 

Qoser  and  closer  the  rocks  gathered  round  ue,  growing  taller 
and  steeper,  and  pressing  more  and  more  upon  our  path.  We  en- 
tered at  length  a  defile  which  I  never  had  seen  rivaled.  The  moun- 
tain was  cracked  from  top  to  bottom,  and  we  were  creeping  along 
the  bottom  of  the  fissure,  in  dampness  and  gloom,  with  the  clink 
of  hoofs  on  the  loose  shingly  rocks,  and  the  hoarse  murmuring  of  a 
w  petulant^brook  which  kept  us  company.  Sometimes  the  water,  foam- 
'  ing  among  the  stones,  overspread  the  whole  narrow  passage ;  some- 
times, withdrawing  to  one  side,  it  gave  us  room  to  pass  dry-shod. 
Looking  up,  we  could  see  a  narrow  ribbon  of  bright  blue  sky  be- 
tween the  dark  edges  of  the  opposing  cliffs.  This  did  not  last  long, 
The  passage  soon  widened,  and  sunbeams  found  their  way  down, 
flashing  upon  the  black  waters.  The  defile  would  spread  out  to  many 
rods  in  width ;  bushes,  trees,  and  flowers  would  spring  by  the  side 
of  the  brook;  the  cliffs  would  be  feathered  with  shrubbery,  that 
clung  in  every  crevice,  and  fringed  with  trees,  that  grew  along  their 
sunny  edges.  Then  we  would  be  moving  again  in  the  darkness.  The 
passage  seemed  about  four  miles  long,  and  before  we  reached  the 
end  of  it,  the  unshod  hoofs  of  our  animals  were  lamentably  broken, 
and  their  legs  cut  by  the  sharp  stones.  Issuing  from  the  mountain 
we  found  another  plain.  All  around  it  stood  a  circle  of  lofty  preci- 


It 


The  Oregon  Trail 


147 


pices,  that  seemed  the  impersonation  of  silence  and  solitude.  Here 
again  the  Indians  had  encamped,  as  well  they  might,  after  passing 
with  their  women,  children  and  horses  through  the  gulf  behind  us 
In  one  day  we  had  made  a  journey  which  had  cost  them  three  to 
accomplish. 

The  only  outlet  to  this  amphitheater  lay  over  a  hill  some  two       . 
hundred  feet  high,  up  which  we  moved  with  difficulty.  Looking     W 
from  the  top,  we  saw  that  at  last  we  were  free  of  the  mountains.       ^ 
The  prairie  spread  before  us,  but  so  wild  and  broken  that  the  view 
was  everywhere  obstructed.  Far  on  our  left  one  tall  hill  swelled  up 
against  tlie  sky,  on  the  smooth,  pale  green  surface  of  which  four 
slowly  moving  black  specks  were  discernible.  They  were  evidently 
buffalo,  and  we  hailed  the  sight  as  a  goocj^augury ;  for  where  the    ^  / 
buffalo  were,  there  too  the  Indians  would  probably  be  found.  We    ^ 
hoped  on  that  very  night  to  reach  the  village.  We  were  anxious  to 
do  so  for  a  double  reason,  wishing  to  bring  our  wearisome  journey 
to  an  end,  and  knowing,  moreover,  that  though  to  enter  the  village 
in  broad  daylight  would  be  a  perfectly  safe  experiment,  yet  to  en- 
camp in  its  vicinity  would  be  dangerous.  But  as  we  rode  on,  the 
sun  was  sinking,  and  soon  was  within  half  an  hour  of  the  horizon. 
We  ascended  a  hill  and  looked  round  us  for  a  spot  for  our  encamp- 
irricnt.  The  prairie  was  like  a  turbulent  ocean,  suddenly  congealed 
[when  its  waves  were  at  the  highest,  and  it  lay  half  in  light  and 
half  in  shadow,  as  the  rich  sunshine,  yellow  as  gold,  was  pouring 
over  it.  The  rough  bushes  of  the  wild  sage  were  growing  every- 
where, its  dull  pale  green  overspreading  hill  and  hollow.  Yet  a  lit- 
tle way  before  us,  a  bright  verdant  line  of  grass  was  winding  along 
Ithe  plain,  and  here  and  there  throughout  its  course  water  was 
[glistening  darkly.  We  went  down  to  it,  kindled  a  fire,  and  turned 
[our  horses  loose  to  feed.  It  was  a  little  trickling  brook,  that  for  some 

^ards  on  either  bank  turned  the  barren  prairie  into  fertility,  and 

lere  and  there  it  spread  into  deep  pools,  where  the  beaver  had 

lammed  it  up. 
We  placed  our  last  remaining  piece  of  the  antelope  before  a  scanty 

ire,  mournfully  reflecting  on  our  exhausted  stock  of  provisions. 

[ust  then  an  enormous  gray  hare,  peculiar  to  these  prairies,  came 

[uniping  along,  and  seated  himself  within  fifty  yards  to  look  at  us. 
thoughtlessly  raised  my  rifle  to  shoot  him,  but  Raymond  called 

)ut  to  me  not  to  fire  for  fear  the  report  should  reach  the  ears  of 


\ 


I      i 


;  I 


■  I 


I » 


<n 


I     ! 


^,1  I 


148 


The  Oregon  Trail 


It 


r>  ! 


X' 


the  Indians.  That  night  for  the  first  time  we  considered  that  the 
danger  to  which  we  were  exposed  was  of  a  somewhat  serious  char- 
acter ;  and  to  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  Indians,  it  may  seem 
strange  that  our  chief  apprehensions  arose  from  the  supposed 
proximity  of  the  people  whom  we  intended  to  visit.  Had  any 
struggling  party  of  these  faithful  friends  caught  sight  of  us  from 
the  hill-top,  they  would  probably  have  returned  in  the  night  to 
plunder  us  of  our  horses  and  perhaps  of  our  scalps.  But  we  were 
on  the  prairie,  where  the  genius  loci  is  at  war  with  all  nervous  ap- 
prehensions;  and  I  presume  fKat  neither  Raymond  nor  I  thought 
twice  of  the  matter  that  evening. 

Vhile  he  was  looking  after  the  animals,  I  sat  by  the  fire  engaged 
in  the  novel  task  of  baking  breid.  The  utensils  v/ere  of  the  most 
simple  and  primitive  kind,  consisting  of  two  sticks  inclining  over 
the  bed  of  coals,  one  end  thrust  into  the  ground  while  the  dough 
was  twisted  in  a  spiral  form  round  the  other.  Under  such  circum- 
stances all  the  epicurean  in  a  man's  nature  is  apt  to  awaken  withia 
him.  I  revisited  in  fancy  the  far  distant  abodes  of  good  fare,  not 
indeed  Frascati's,  or  the  Trois  Freres  Provengaux,  for  that  were 
too  extreme  a  flight ;  but  no  other  than  the  homely  table  of  my  old 
•''friend  and  host,  Tom  C^-awford,  of  the  White  Moyjitains.  By  a 
singular  revulsion,  Tom  himself,  whom  I  well  remember  to  have 
lookc  a  upon  asliHe  impersonation  of  all  that  is  wild  and  backwoods- 
manlike, now  appeared  before  me  as  the  ministering  angel  of  com- 
fort and  good  living.  Being  fatigued  and  drowsy  I  began  to  doze, 
and  my  thoughts,  following  the  same  train  of  association,  assumed 
another  form.  Half -dreaming,  I  saw  myself  surrounded  with  the 
mountains  of  New  England,  alive  with  water-falls,  their  black  crag? 
tinctured  with  milk-white  mists.  For  this  reverie  ^  paid  a  speedy 
penaltyT^or  the  bread  was  black  on  one  side  and  soft  on  the  other 

For  eight  hours  Raymond  and  I,  pillowed  .jn  our  saddles,  lav  I 
insensible  as  logs.  Pauline's  yellow  head  was  sti  etched  over  me  I 
when  I  awoke.  I  got  up  and  examined  her.  Her  f eei  indeed  were 
bruised  and  swollen  by  the  accidents  of  yesterday,  but  her  eye  waj| 
brighter,  her  motions   livelier,  and   her  mysterious  malady  b 
visibly  abated.  We  moved  on,  hoping  within  an  hour  to  come  mi 
sight  of  the  Indian  village ;  but  again  disappointment  awaited  uj. 
The  trail  disappeared,  melting  away  upon  a  hard  and  stony  plain 


■'  T  • 


The  Oregon  Trail 


149 


Raymond  and  I  separating,  rode  from  side  to  side,  scrutinizing 
every  yard  of  ground,  until  at  length  I  discerned  traces  of  the 
lodge-poles  passing  by  the  side  of  a  ridge  of  rocks.  We  began  again 
to  follow  them. 
"What  is  that  black  spot  out  there  on  the  prairie  ?" 
"It  looks  like  a  dead  buffalo,"  answered  Raymond. 
We  rode  out  to  it,  and  found  it  to  be  the  huge  carcass  of  a  bull 
killed  by  the  Indians  as  they  had  passed.  Tangled  hair  and  scraps 
of  hide  were  scattered  all  around,  for  the  wolves  had  been  mak- 
ing merry  over  it,  and  had  hollowed  out  the  entire  carcass.  It  was 
covered  with  myriads  of  large  black  crickets,  and  from  its  ap- 
pearance must  certainly  have  lain  there  for  four  or  five  days.  The 
sight  was  a  most  disheartening  one,  and  I  observed  to  Raymond 
I  that  the  Indians  might  stilt  be  fifty  or  sixty  miles  before  us.  But 
I  he  shook  his  head,  and  replied  that  they  dared  not  go  so  far  for 
fear  of  their  enemies,  the  Snakes. 

Soon  after  this  we  lost  the  trail  again,  and  ascended  a  neighbor- 
ling  ridge,  totally  at  a  loss.  Before  us  lay  a  plain  perfectly  flat, 
spreading  on  the  right  and  left,  without  apparent  limit,  and 
bounded  in  front  by  a  long  broken  line  of  hills,  ten  or  twelve  miles 
distant.  All  was  open  and  exposed  to  view,  yet  not  a  buffalo  nor  an 
[Indian  was  visible. 

"Do  you  see  that?"  said  Raymond;  "Now  we  had  better  turn 
I  round." 

i3ut  as  Raymond's  bourgeois  thought  otherwise,  we  descended 
[the  hill  and  began  to  cross  the  plain.  We  had  come  so  far  that  I 
[knew  perfectly  well  neither  Pauline's  limbs  nor  my  own  could 
irry  me  back  to  Fort  Laramie.  I  considered  that  the  lines  of  ex- 
jediency  and  inclination  tallied  exactly,  and  that  the  most  prudent 
course  was  to  keep  forward.  The  ground  immediately  around  us 
iras  thickly  strewn  with  the  skulls  and  bones  of  buffalo,  for  here  a 
^ear  or  two  before  the  Indians  had  made  a  ^'surround" ;  yet  no 
living  game  presented   itself.    At   length,   however,   an   antelope 
sprang  up  and  gazed  at  us.  We  fired  together,  and  by  a  singular 
fatality  we  both  missed,  although  the  animal  stood,  a  fair  mark, 
nthin  eighty  yards.  This  ill  success  might  perhaps  be  charged  to 
)ur  own  eagerness,  for  by  this  time  we  had  no  provision  left  ex- 
cept a  little  flour.  We  could  discern  several  small  lakes,  or  rather 


'! 


^  N 


?  ! 


^ 


¥^} 


'I 


150 


TiiK  C^RFc.oN  Trait. 


extctisivr  |)«>ols  nf  water,  ^^listniin^  in  the  distaiuT.  As  uc  aiv 
proMclu'd  thrill,  wolves  aiul  anteh^pes  hnniulrd  away  tlirntij^jli  llutnll 
jjrass  thai  riow  iti  tlirir  vicinity,  ami  IIkUs  of  lar^e  wh)l«>  plmrr 
flew  sciraniiiij;  over  Ihrir  siirfaiT.  Having'  failed  of  the  antclttu' 
Ivaytiiond  tried  his  hand  at  the  hirds  witli  the  same  ill  siieecss.  T|if 
water  als«)  (h'sappninted  tis.  lis  muddy  margin  was  s»)  heatcii  up 
hy  the  crowd  of  hutValo  that  our  timorous  animals  were  afraid  to 
approach.  So  we  turned  away  and  moved  toward  the  hills.  The 
rank  ii;rass.  where  it  was  not  trampled  down  hy  the  ImlTalo,  fairly 
swept  our  horses'  necks. 
y/  Ajjain  we  fouiu?  the  same  execrable  harren  prairie  olTcriii^j  no 
^  clew  hy  which  to  j;uide  onr  way.  As  we  drt  w  near  the  hills  an  oiK-n- 
\w^  a]^l>eared.  thronj;h  which  th.  Indains  must  have  j;one  if  tluv 
had  passed  that  way  at  all.  Slowly  we  heijaii  to  ascend  it.  1  fiit  the 
most  dreary  foreh(Hlinj:;s  of  ill  success,  when  on  lookinj:^  round  I 
could  disctner  neither  dent  of  hoof,  nor  f*M)tprint,  nor  tr.ncof 
lodj:c-pole.  thouijh  the  passage  was  encumhered  hy  the  ghastly  skulls 
of  hulValo.  We  heard  thunder  muttering;  a  storm  was  eoniinj,'on, 

As  we  gained  ihe  top  of  the  j;ap,  the  prospect  beyond  iK^anto 
disclose  itself.  I'irst.  we  saw  a  loujj  dark  line  of  rajj^ged  clouds  upon 
the  horizon,  while  above  them  rose  the  peak  of  the  Medicinc-llow, 
the  vaui^uard  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  ;  then  little  by  little  the  plain 
came  into  view,  a  vast  grei^n  uniformity,  forlorn  and  tenatitlcss. 
though  Laramie  Creek  glistened  in  a  waving  line  over  its  surface, 
without  a  bush  or  a  tree  u]xin  its  banks.  As  yet,  the  round  pro- 
jecting shoulder  of  a  hill  intercepted  a  part  of  the  view.  1  rode  in 
advance,  when  suddenly  I  could  distinguish  a  few  dark  spots 
the  prairie,  along  the  l)ank  of  the  stream. 

"Buttalo!"  said  I.  Then  a  sudden  hope  flashed  ui)on  mo.  ami  | 
eagerly  and  anxiously  I  looked  again. 

"Horses!"  exclaimed  Ra\inond,  with  a  tremendous  oath,  lash- 
ing his  mule  forward  as  he  six)ke.  More  and  more  of  the  pl.iiii  (lis- 
closed  itself,  and  in  rapid  succession  more  and  more  horses  a[^| 
pcared,  scattered  along  the  river  bank,  or  feeding  in  hands  over| 
the  prairie.  Then,  suddenly,  standing  in  a  circle  by  the  stream, 
swarming  with  their  savage  inhabitants,  we  saw  rising  before  us  I 
the  tall  lodges  of  the  C>gallalla.  Never  did  the  heart  of  wander«f 
more  gladden  at  the  sight  of  liome  than  did  mine  at  the  sight  oi'| 
those  wild  habitations ! 


1*1 


The  (Jricgon  Trail 


151 


rilAPTKR    XIV 

Till'.  (MiALLALI.A   VILLACIC 


n 


Sr(  M  A  NARRATivr,  US  tilis  is  hardly  the  i)larc  for  portrayinjj  the 
nirnt.il  fratnrcs  (»f  thr  lii<hiiiis.  'I  he  saitir  picture,  shKhtly  rhanjjcd 
in  shade  and  coloring,  wouhl  serve  with  very  few  exceptions  for 
all  the  triltc's  tluii  lie  tiurth  of  the  Mexican  territories.  lUit  with  this 
striking'  sitnihirity  in  tlieir  modes  of  tliought,  the  trihes  of  the  lake 
anfl  (Kcan  shores,  of  the  forests  and  of  the  plains,  dii'fer  greatly  in 
tlicir  nmnnrr  of  life.  FTavin^,'  heen  domesticated  frjr  sevrrnl  wr««k«  ^ 
anions  on**  of  thr  wildest  of  the  wild  hordes  that  roam  over  the 
rcnHitc  prairies,  I  had  extraordinary  opportunities  of  ohserving 
tlicni,  and  I  flatter  myself  that  a  faithful  ])icture  of  the  scenes  that 
passed  daily  hefore  my  eyes  may  not  he  devoid  of  interest  and 
value.  These  men  were  thf)rou^di  savages.  Neither  their  manners 
nor  their  id<'as  were  in  the  slightest  dej^'ree  modified  hy  contact 
with  civili/.ation.  They  knew  nothing  of  the  power  and  real  char- 
acter of  the  white  men,  and  their  children  would  scream  in  terror 
at  the  sii^lit  of  me.  Their  reli^don,  their  superstitions,  and  their 
prejudices  were  the  same  that  had  been  handed  rlf)wn  to  them  from 
iniinemorial  time.  They  fought  with  the  same  weajKDns  that  their 
fathers  fought  with  and  wore  the  same  rufle  j^arments  of  skins. 

(jreat  changes  are  at  hand  in  that  region.  With  the  stream  of 
emigration  to  Oregon  and  California,  the  buffalo  will  dwindle 
away,  and  the  large  wandering  communities  who  depend  on  them 
for  support  must  be  broken  and  scattered.  The  Indians  will  soon  be 
C()rru{)ted  by  the  example  of  the  whites,  abased  by  whi<t^y.  and 
overawed  by  military  i^O^TyTsotbat  within  a  few  years  the  traveler  \ 
may  pass  in  tolerable  security  through  their  country.  Its  danger 
and  its  charm  will  have  disappeared  together. 

As  soon  as  Raymond  and  I  discovered  the  village  from  the  gap 
in  the  hills,  we  were  seen  in  our  turn ;  keen  eyes  were  constantly 
ion  the  watch.  As  we  rode  down  Uj)on  the  plain  the  side  of  the 
village  nearest  us  was  darkened  with  a  crowd  of  naked  figures 
I  gathering  around  the  lodges.  Several  men  came  forward  to  meet  us. 
I  could  distinguish  among  them  the  green  blanket  of  the  French- 
man Reynal.  When  we  came  up  the  ceremony  of  shaking  hands 


\ 


.  ( 


r 


?. ' 


•il 


152 


The  Oregon  Trail 


* 


If 


had  to  be  gone  through  with  in  due  form,  and  then  all  were  eager 
to  know  w  iiat  had  become  of  the  rest  of  my  party.  I  satisfied  them 
on  this  point,  and  we  all  moved  forward  together  toward  the  vil- 
lage. 

"You've  missed  it,"  said  Reynal ;  "if  you'd  been  here  day  before 
yesterday,  you'd  have  found  the  whole  prairie  over  yonder  black 
with  buffalo  as  far  as  you  could  see.  There  were  no  cows.though; 
nothing  but  bulls.  We  made  a  'surround'  every  day  till  yesterday. 
See  the  village  there;  don't  that  look  like  good  living?" 

In  fact  I  could  see,  even  at  that  distance,  that  long  cords  were 
stretched  from  lodge  to  lodge,  over  which  the  meat,  cut  by  the 
squaws  into  thin  sheets,  was  hanging  to  dry  in  the  sun.  I  noticed  too 
that  the  village  was  somewhat  smaller  than  when  I  had  last  seen 
it,  and  I  asked  Reynal  the  cause.  He  said  that  old  Le  Borgne  had 
felt  too  weak  to  pass  over  the  mountains,  and  so  had  remained 
behind  with  all  his  relations,  including  Mahto-Tatonka  and  his 
brothers.  The  Whirlwind  too  had  been  unwilling  to  come  so  far, 
because,  as  Reynal  said,  he  was  afraid.  Only  half  a  dozen  lodges 
had  adhered  to  him,  the  main  body  of  the  village  setting  their 
chief's  authority  at  naught,  and  taking  the  course  most  agreeable  to 
their  inclinations. 

"What  chiefs  are  there  in  the  village  now  ?"  said  I. 

"Well,"  said  Reynal,  "there's  old  Red-Water,  and  the  Eagle- 
Feather,  and  the  Big  Crow,  and  the  Mad  Wolf  and  the  Panther, 
and  the  White  Shield,  and — what's  his  name? — the  half-breed 
Cheyenne." 

By  this  time  we  were  close  to  the  village,  and  I  observed  that 
while  the  greater  part  of  the  lodges  were  very  large  and  neat  in 
their  appearance,  there  was  at  one  side  a  cluster  of  squalid,  mis- 
erable huts.  I  looked  toward  them,  and  made  some  remark  about 
their  wretched  appearance.  But  I  was  touching  upon  delicate 
ground. 

"My  squaw's  relations  live  in  those  lodges,"  said  Reynal  very 
warmly,  "and  there  isn't  a  better  set  in  the  whole  village." 

"Are  there  any  chiefs  among  them  ?"  asked  I. 

"Chiefs  ?"  said  Reynal ;  "yes,  plenty !" 

"What  are  their  names  ?"  I  inquired. 

"Their  names  ?  Why,  there's  the  Arrow-Head.  If  he  isn't  a  chief  i 
he  ought  to  be  one.  And  there's  the  Hail-Storm.  He's  nothing  but 
a  boy,  to  be  sure ;  but  he's  bound  to  be  a  chief  one  of  these  daysl" 


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Just  then  we  passed  between  two  of  the  lodges,  and  entered  the 
(Treat  area  of  the  village.  Superb  naked  figures  stood  silently  gaz- 
ing on  us. 

"Where's  the  Bad  Wound's  lodge?"  said  I  to  Reynal. 

"There,  you've  missed  it  again !  The  Bad  Wound  is  away  with 
The  Whirlwind.  If  you  could  have  found  him  here,  and  gone  to 
live  in  his  lodge,  he  would  have  treated  you  better  than  any  man 
in  the  village.  But  there's  the  Big  Crow's  lodge  yonder,  next  to  old 
Red-Water's.  He's  a  good  Indian  for  the  whites,  and  I  advise  you  to 
go  and  live  with  him." 

"Are  there  many  squaws  and  children  in  his  lodge?"  said  I. 

"No;  only  one  squaw  and  two  or  three  children.  He  keeps  the 
rest  in  a  separate  lodge  by  themselves." 

So,  still  followed  by  a  crowd  of  Indians,  Raymond  and  I  rode 
up  to  the  entrance  of  the  Big  Crow's  lodge.  A  squaw  came  out 
immediately  and  took  our  horses.  I  put  aside  the  leather  nap  that 
covered  the  low  opening,  and  stooping,  entered  the  Big  Crow's 
dwelling.  There  I  could  see  the  chief  in  the  dim  light,  seated  at  one 
side,  on  a  pile  of  buffalo  robes.  He  greeted  me  with  a  guttural 
"How,  cola !"  I  requested  Reynal  to  tell  him  that  Raymond  and  I 
were  come  to  live  with  him.  JThe  Big  Crow  gave  another  low  ex- 
clamation. If  the  reader  thin^^hat  we  were  intruding  somewhat 
cavalierly,  I  beg  him  to  observe  that  every  Indian  in  the  village 
would  have  deemed  himself  honored  that  white  men  should  give 
such  preference  to  his  hospitality. 

The  squaw  spread  a  buffalo  robe  for  us  in  the  guest's  place  at 
the  head  of  the  lodge.  Our  saddles  were  brought  in,  and  scarcely 
were  we  seated  upon  them  before  the  place  was  thronged  with  In- 
dians, who  came  crowding  in  to  see  us.  The  Big  Crow  produced  his 
pipe  and  filled  it  with  the  mixture  of  tobacco  and  shoiigsasha,  or 
red  willow  bark.  Round  and  round  it  passed,  and  a  lively  conversa- 
Ition  went  forward.  Meanwhile  a  squaw  placed  before  the  two 
guests  a  wooden  bowl  of  boiled  buffalo  meat,  but  unhappily  this 
was  not  the  only  banquet  destined  to  be  inflicted  on  us.  Rapidly, 
one  after  another,  boys  and  young  squaws  thrust  their  heads  in  at 
the  opening,  to  invite  us  to  various  feasts  in  different  parts  of  the 
village.  For  half  pti  hour  or  more  we  were  actively  engaged  in  pass- 
ing from  lodge  to  lodge,  tasting  in  each  of  the  bowl  of  meat  set  be- 
fore us,  and  inhaling  a  whiff  or  two  from  our  entertainer's  pipe.  A 
thunderstorm  that  had  been  threatening  for  some  time  now  began 


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in  good  earnest.  We  crossed  over  to  Reynal's  lodge,  though  it 
hardly  deserved  this  name,  for  it  consisted  only  of  a  few  old  buf. 
falo  robes,  supported  on  poles,  and  was  quite  open  on  one  side. 
Here  we  sat  down,  and  the  Indians  gathered  round  us. 

"What  is  it,"  said  I,  "that  makes  the  thunder?" 

"It's  my  belief,"  said  Reynal,  "that  it  is  a  big  stone  rolling  over 
the  sky." 

"Very  likely,"  I  replied;  "but  I  want  to  "know  what  the  Indians 
think  about  it." 

So  he  interpreted  my  question,  which  seemed  to  produce  some 
doubt  and  3ebate.  There  was  evidently  a  difference  of  opinion.  At 
last  old  Mene-Seela,  or  Red- Water,  who  sat  by  himself  at  one  side, 
looked  up  with  his  withered  face,  and  said  he  had  always  known 
what  the  thunder  was.  It  was  a  great  black  bird ;  and  once  he  had 
seen  it,  in"  a  dream,  swooping  down  from  the  Black  Hills,  with  its 
loud  roaring  wings;  and  when  it  flapped  them  over  a  lake,  they 
struck  lightning  from  the  water. 

*'The  thunder  is  bad."  said  another  old  man,  who  sat  muffled 
ii:  his  buffalo  robe ;  "he  killed  my  brother  last  summer." 

Reynal,  at  my  request,  asked  for  an  explanation ;  but  the  old  mir. 
remained  doggedly  silent,  and  would  not  look  up.  Some  time  after 
I  learned  how  the  accident  occurred.  The  mvan  who  was  killed  be- 
longed to  an  association  which,  among  other  mystic  functions, 
claimed  the  exclusive  power  and  privilege  of  fighting  the  thunder. 
Whenever  a  storm  which  they  wished  to  avert  was  threatening,  the 
thunder-fighters  would  take  their  bows  and  arrows,  their  guns, 

V  their  magic  drum,  and  a  sort  of  whistle,  made  out  of  the  wingbone 
of  the  war  eagle.  Thus  equipped,  they  would  run  out  and  fire  at  the 
rising  cloud,  whooping,  yelling,  whistling,  and  beating  their  drum. 
to  frighten  it  down  again.  One  afternoon  a  heavy  black  cloud  was 
coming  up,  and  they  repaired  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  where  they 
brought  all  their  magic  artillery  into  play  against  it.  But  the  un- 
daunted thunder,  refusing  to  be  terrified,  kept  moving  straight  on- 
ward, and  darted  out  a  bright  flash  which  struck  one  of  the  party 
dead,  as  he  was  in  the  very  act  of  shaking  his  long  iron-pointed 
lance  against  it.  The  rest  scattered  and  ran  yelling  in  an  ecstasy  of 
superstitious  terror  back  to  their  lodges. 

The  lodge  of  my  host  Kongra-Tonga,  or  the  Big  Crow,  presented 
a  picturesque  spectacle  that  evening.  A  score  or  more  of  Indians 


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were  seated  around  in  a  circle,  their  dark  naked  forms  just  visible 
by  the  dull  light  of  the  smoldering  fire  in  the  center,  the  pipe  glow- 
ing brightly  in  the  gloom  as  it  passed  from  hand  to  hand  round  the 
lodge.  Then  a  squaw  would  drop  a  piece  of  buffalo- fat  on  the  dull 
embers.  Instantly  a  bright  glancing  flame  would  leap  up,  darting 
its  clear  light  to  the  very  apex  of  the  tall  conical  structure,  where 
the  tops  of  the  slender  poles  that  supported  its  covering  of  leather 
were  gathered  together.  It  gilded  the  features  of  the  Indians,  as 
with  animated  gestures  they  sat  around  it,  telling  their  endless 
stories  of  war  and  hunting.  It  displayed  rude  garments  of  skins 
that  hung  around  the  lodge ;  the  bow,  quiver,  and  lance  suspended 
over  the  resting-place  of  the  chief,  and  the  rifles  and  powder-horns 
of  the  two  white  guests.  For  a  moment  all  would  be  bright  as  day ; 
then  the  flames  would  die  away,  and  fitful  flashes  from  the  embers 
would  illumine  the  lodge,  and  then  leave  it  in  darkness.  Then  all 
the  light  would  wholly  fade,  and  the  lodge  and  all  within  it  be  in- 
volved again  in  obscurity. 

As  I  left  the  lodge  next  morning,  I  was  saluted  by  howling  and 
yelling  from  all  around  the  village,  and  half  its  canine  population 
rushed  forth  to  the  attack.  Being  as  cowardly  as  they  were  clamor- 
ous, they  kept  jumping  around  me  at  the  distance  of  a  few  yards, 
only  one  little  cur,  about  ten  inches  long,  having  spirit  enough  to 
make  a  direct  assault.  He  dashed  valiantly  at  the  leather  tassel 
which  in  the  Dakota  fashion  was  trailing  behind  the  heel  of  my 
moccasin,  and  kept  his  hold,  growling  and  snarling  all  the  while, 
though  every  step  I  made  almost  jerked  him  over  on  his  back.  As 
I  knew  that  the  eyes  of  the  whole  village  were  on  the  watch  to  see 
if  I  showed  any  sign  of  apprehension,  I  walked  forward  without 
looking  to  the  right  or  left,  surrounded  wherever  I  went  by  this 
magic  circle  of  dogs.  When  I  came  to  Reynal's  lodge  I  sat  down 
by  it,  on  which  the  dogs  dispersed  growling  to  their  respective 
quarters.  Only  on^  large  ..wjiite  one  remained,  who  kept  running 
about  before  me  and  showing  his  teeth.  I  called  him,  but  he  only 
growled  the  more.  I  looked  at  him  well.  He  was  fat  and  sleek 
just  such  a  dog  as  I  wanted.  "My  friend,"  thought  I,  "you  shall 
pay  for  this !  I  will  have  you  eaten  this  very  morning !" 

I  intended  that  day  to  give  the  Indians  a  feast,  by  way  of  con- 
veying a  favorable  impression  of  my  character  and  dignity;  and 
a  white  dog  is  the  dish  which  the  customs  of  the  Dakota  prescribe 


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for  all  occasions  of  formality  and  importance.  I  consulted  Reynal ; 
he  soon  discovered  that  an  old  woman  in  the  next  lodge  was  owner 
of  the  white  dog.  I  took  a  gaudy  cotton  handkerchief,  and  laying  it 
on  the  ground,  arranged  some  vermilion,  beads,  and  other  trinkets 
upon  it.  Then  the  old  squaw  was  summoned.  I  pointed  to  the  dog 
and  to  the  handkerchief.  She  gave  a  scream  of  delight,  snatched 
up  the  prize,  anr!  vanished  with  it  into  her  lodge.  For  a  few  n:  jre 
trifles  I  engaged  the  services  of  two  other  squaws,  each  of  whom 
took  the  white  dog  by  one  of  his  paws,  and  led  him  away  behind 
the  lodges,  while  he  kept  looking  up  at  them  with  a  face  of  innocent 
surprise.  Having  killed  him  they  threw  him  into  a  fire  to  singe; 
then  chopped  him  up  and  put  him  into  two  large  kettles  to  boil. 
Meanwhile  I  told  Raymond  to  fry  in  buflfalo-fat  what  little  flour  we 
had  left,  and  also  to  make  a  kettle  of  tea  as  an  additional  item  of 
the  repast. 

The  Big  Crow's  squaw  was  set  briskly  at  work  sweeping  out  the 
lodge  for  the  approaching  festivity.  I  confided  to  my  host  himself 
the  task  of  inviting  the  guests,  thinking  that  I  might  thereby  shift 
"jplfrom  my  own  shoulders  the  odiumjof  fancied  neglect  and  over- 
sight. 

When  feasting  is  in  question,  one  hour  of  the  day  serves  an  In- 
dian as  well  as  another.  My  entertainment  came  oflF  about  eleven 
o'clock.  At  that  hour,  Reynal  and  Raymond  walked  across  the  area 
of  the  village,  to  the  admiration  of  the  inhabitants,  carrying  the 
two  kettles  of  dog-meat  slung  on  a  pole  between  them.  These  they 
placed  in  the  center  of  the  lodge,  and  then  went  back  for  the  bread 
and  the  tea.  Meanwhile  I  had  put  on  a  pair  of  brilliant  moccasins, 
and  substituted  for  my  old  buckskin  frock  a  coat  which  I  had 
brought  with  me  in  view  of  such  public  occasions.  I  also  made  care- 
ful use  of  the  razor,  an  operation  which  no  man  will  neglect  who 
desires  to  gain  the  good  opinion  of  Indians.  Thus  attired,  I  seated 
myself  between  Reynal  and  Raymond  at  the  head  of  the  lodge.  Only 
a  few  minutes  elapsed  before  all  the  guests  had  come  in  and  were 
seated  on  the  ground,  wedged  together  in  a  close  circle  around  the 
lodge.  Each  brought  with  him  a  wooden  bowl  to  i>old  his  share  of 
the  repast.  When  all  were  assembled,  two  of  the  officials  called 
"soldiers"  by  the  white  men,  came  forward  with  ladles  made  of  the 
horn  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  sheep,  and  began  to  distribute  the 
feast,  always  assigning  a  double  share  to  the  old  men  and  chiefs. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


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.    i 


The  dog  vanished  with  astonishing  c^^erity.  and  each  guest  turned  N/ 
his  dish  bottom  upward  to  show  that  all  was  gone.  Then  the  bread 
was  distributed  in  its  turn,  and  finally  the  tea.  As  the  soldiers 
poured  it  out  into  the  same  wooden  bowls  that  had  served  for  the 
substantial  part  of  the  meal,  I  though  it  had  a  particularly  curious 
and  uninviting  color. 

"Oh !"  said  Reynal,  "there  was  not  tea  enough,  so  I  stirred  some 
soot  in  the  kettle,  to  make  it  look  strong." 

Fortunately  an  Indian's  palate  is  not  very  discrjjoinatiag.  The    4 
tea  was  well  sweetened,  and  that  was  all  they  cared  for. 

Now  the  former  part  of  the  entertainment  being  concluded,  the 
time  for  speech-making  was  come.  The  Big  Crow  produced  a  flat 
piece  of  wood  on  which  he  cut  up  tobacco  and  shongsasha,  and 
mixed  them  in  due  proportions.  The  pipes  were  filled  and  passed 
from  hand  to  hand  around  the  company.  Then  I  began  my  speech, 
each  sentence  being  interpreted  by  Reynal  as  1  weni  on,  and  echoed 
by  the  whole  audience  with  the  usual  exclamations  of  assent  and 
approval.  As  nearly  as  I  can  recollect,  it  was  as  follows : 

I  had  come,  I  told  them,  from  a  country  so  far  distant,  that  at 
the  rate  they  travel,  they  cotild  not  reach  it  in  a  year. 

"Howo  how !" 

"There  the  Meneaska  were  more  numerous  than  the  blades  of 
grass  on  the  prairie.  The  squaws  were  far  more  beautiful  than  any 
they  had  ever  seen,  and  all  the  men  were  brave  warriors." 

"How !  how !  how !" 

Here  I  was  assailed  by  sharp  twinges  of  conscience,  for  I  fan- 
cied I  could  perceive  a  fragrance  of  perfumery  in  the  air,  and  a 
vision  rose  before  me  of  white  kid  gloves  and  silken  mustaches 
with  the  mild  and  gentle  countenances  of  numerous  fair-haired 
young  men.  But  I  recovered  myself  and  began  again. 

"While  I  was  living  in  the  Meneaska  lodges,  I  had  heard  of  the 
Ogallalla,  how  great  and  brave  a  nation  they  were,  how  they  loved 
the  whites,  and  how  well  they  could  hunt  the  buflfalo  and  strike 
their  enemies.  I  resolved  to  come  and  see  if  all  that  I  heard  was 
true." 

"How !  how !  how !  how !" 

"As  I  had  come  on  horseback  through  the  mountains,  I  had  been 
able  to  bring  them  only  a  very  few  presents." 

"How !" 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


"But  I  had  enough  tobacco  to  give  them  all  a  small  piece.  They 
might  smoke  it,  and  see  how  much  better  it  was  than  the  tobacco 
which  they  got  from  the  traders." 

"How !  how !  how !" 

"I  had  plenty  of  powder,  lead,  knives,  and  tobacco  at  Fort 
Laramie.  These  I  was  anxious  to  give  them,  end  if  any  of  them 
should  come  to  the  fort  before  I  went  away,  I  would  make  them 
handsome  presents." 

"Howl  howo  how!  how!" 

Raymond  then  cut  up  and  distributed  among  them  two  or  three 
pounds  of  tobacco,  and  old  Mene-Seela  began  to  make  a  reply.  It 
was  quite  long,  but  the  following  was  the  pith  of  it : 

"He  had  always  loved  the  whites.  They  were  the  wisest  people 
on  earth.  He  believed  they  could  do  everything,  and  he  was  always 
glad  when  any  of  them  came  to  live  in  the  Ogallalla  lodges.  It  was 
true  I  had  not  made  them  many  presents,  but  the  reason  of  it  was 
plain.  It  was  clear  that  I  liked  them,  or  I  never  should  have  come 
so  far  to  find  their  village." 

Several  other  speeches  of  similar  import  followed,  and  then  this 
more  serious  matter  being  disposed  of,  there  was  an  interval  of 
smoking,  laughirg,  and  conversation ;  but  old  Mene-Seela  suddenly 
interrupted  it  with  a  loud  voice : 

"Now  is  a  good  time,"  he  said,  "when  all  the  old  men  and  chiefs 
are  here  together,  to  decide  what  the  people  shall  do.  We  came  over 
the  mountain  to  make  our  lodges  for  next  year.  Our  old  ones  are 
good  for  nothing ;  they  are  rotten  and  worn  out.  But  we  have  been 
disappointed.  We  have  killed  buffalo  bulls  enough,  but  we  have 
found  no  herds  of  cows,  and  the  skins  of  bulls  are  too  thick  and 
heavy  for  our  squaws  to  make  lodges  of.  There  must  be  plenty  of 
cows  about  the  Medicine-Bow  Mountain.  We  ought  to  go  there. 
To  be  sure  it  is  farther  westward  than  we  have  ever  been  before, 
and  perhaps  the  Snakes  will  attack  us,  for  those  hunting-grounds 
belong  to  them.  But  we  must  have  new  lodges  at  any  rate ;  our  old 
ones  will  not  serve  for  another  year.  We  ought  not  to  be  afraid  of 
the  Snakes.  Our  warriors  are  brave,  and  they  are  all  ready  for  war. 
Besides,  we  have  three  white  men  with  their  rifles  to  help  us." 

I  cculd  not  help  thinking  that  the  old  man  relied  a  little  too 
much  on  the  aid  of  allies,  one  of  whom  was  a  coward,  another  a 
blockhead,  and  the  third  an  invalid.  This  speech  produo  d  a 


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deal  of  debate.  As  Rejmal  did  not  interpret  what  was  said,  I  could 
only  judge  of  the  meaning  by  the  features  and  gestures  of  the 
speakers.  At  the  end  of  it,  however,  the  greater  number  seemed  to 
have  fallen  in  with  Mene-Seela's  opinion.  A  short  silence  followed, 
and  then  the  old  man  struck  up  a  discordant  chant,  which  I  was 
told  was  a  song  of  thanks  for  the  entertainment  I  had  given  them. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "let  us  go  and  give  the  white  men  a  chance  to 
breathe." 

So  the  company  all  dispersed  into  the  open  air,  and  for  some 
time  the  old  chief  was  walking  round  the  village,  singing  his  song 
in  praise  of  the  feast,  after  the  usual  custom  of  the  nation. 

At  last  the  day  drew  to  a  close,  and  as  the  sun  went  down  the 
horses  came  trooping  from  the  surrounding  plains  to  be  picketed 
before  the  dwellings  of  their  respective  masters.  Soon  within  the 
great  circle  of  lodges  appeared  anothei  concentric  circle  of  restless 
horses ;  and  here  and  there  fires  were  glowing  and  flickering  amid 
the  gloom  of  the  dusky  figures  around  them.  I  went  over  and  sat  by 
the  iodge  of  Reynal.  The  Eagle-Feather,  who  was  a  son  of  Mene- 
Seela,  and  brother  of  my  host  the  Big  Crow,  was  seated  there  al- 
ready, and  I  asked  him  if  the  village  would  move  in  the  morning. 
He  shook  his  head,  and  said  that  nobody  could  tell,  for  since  old 
Mahto-Tatonka  had  died,  the  people  had  been  like  children  that  did 
not  know  their  own  minds.  They  were  no  better  than  a  body  with- 
out a  head.  So  I,  as  well  as  the  Indians  themselves,  fell  asleep  that 
night  without  knowing  whether  we  should  set  out  in  the  morning 
toward  the  country  of  the  Snakes. 

At  daybreak,  however,  as  I  was  coming  up  from  the  river  after 
my  morning's  ablutions,  I  saw  that  a  movement  was  contemplated. 
Some  of  the  lodges  were  reduced  to  nothing  but  bare  skeletons  of 
poles ;  the  leather  covering  of  others  was  flapping  in  the  wind  as  the 
squaws  were  pulling  it  off.  One  or  two  chiefs  of  note  had  resolved, 
it  seemed,  on  moving ;  and  so  having  set  their  squaws  at  work,  the 
example  was  tacitly  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  village.  One  by  one 
the  lodges  were  sinking  down  in  rapid  succession,  and  where  the 
great  circle  of  the  village  had  been  only  a  moment  before,  nothing 
now  remained  but  a  ring  of  horses  and  Indians,  crowded  in  confu- 
sion together.  The  ruins  of  the  lodges  were  spread  over  the  ground, 
together  with  kettles,  stone  mallets,  great  ladles  of  horn,  buffalo 
robes,  and  cases  of  painted  hide,  filled  with  dried  meat.  Squaws 


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bustled  about  in  their  busy  preparations,  the  old  hags  screaming 
to  one  another  at  the  stretch  of  their  leathern  lungs.  The  shaggy 
horses  were  patiently  standing  while  the  lodge-poles  were  lashed 
to  their  sides,  and  the  baggage  piled  upon  their  backs.  The  dogs, 
with  their  tongues  lolling  out,  lay  lazily  panting,  and  waiting  for 
the  time  of  departure.  Each  warrior  sat  on  the  ground  by  the  de- 
caying embers  of  his  fire,  unmoved  amid  all  the  confusion,  while 
he  held  in  his  hand  the  long  trail-rope  of  his  horse. 

As  their  preparations  were  completed,  each  family  moved  off  the 
ground.  The  crowd  was  rapidly  melting  away.  I  could  see  them 
crossing  the  river,  and  passing  in  quick  succession  along  the  profile 
of  the  hill  on  the  farther  bank.  When  all  were  gone,  I  mounted  and 
set  out  after  them,  followed  by  Raymond,  and  as  we  gained  the 
summit,  the  whole  village  came  in  view  at  once,  straggling  away 
for  a  mile  or  more  over  the  barren  plains  before  us.  Everywhere 
the  iron  points  of  lances  were  glittering.  The  sun  never  shone  upon 
a  more  strange  array.  Here  were  the  heavy-laden  pack  horses, 
some  wretched  old  women  leading  them,  and  two  or  three  children 
clinging  to  their  backs.  Here  were  mules  or  ponies  covered  from 
head  to  tail  with  gaudy  trappings,  and  mounted  by  some  gay  young 
squaw,  grinning  bash  fulness  and  pleasure  as  the  Meneaska  looked 
at  her.  Boys  with  miniature  bows  and  arrows  were  wandering  over 
the  plains,  little  naked  children  were  running  along  on  foot,  and 
numberless  dogs  were  scampering  among  the  feet  of  the  horses. 
The  young  braves,  gaudy  with  paint  and  feathers,  were  riding  in 
groups  among  the  crowd,  and  often  galloping,  two  or  three  at 
once  along  the  line,  to  try  the  speed  of  their  horses.  Here  and 
there  you  might  see  a  rank  of  sturdy  pedestrians  stalking  along  in 
their  white  buffalo  robes.  These  were  the  dignitaries  of  the  vil- 
lage, the  old  men  and  warriors,  to  whose  age  and  experience  that 
wandering  democracy  yielded  a  silent  deference.  With  the  rough 
prairie  and  the  broken  hills  for  its  background,  the  restless  scene 
was  striking  and  picturesque  beyond  description.  Days  and  weeks 
made  me  familiar  with  it,  but  never  impaired  its  effect  upon  my 
fancy. 

As  we  moved  .on  the  broken  column  grew  yet  more  scattered 
and  disorderly,  until,  as  we  approached  the  foot  of  a  hill,  I  saw  the 
old  mqn  before  mentioned  seating  themselves  in  a  line  upon  the 
ground,  in  advance  of  the  whole.  They  lighted  a  pipe  and  sat  smok- 


The  Oregon  Trail 


161 


ing,  laughing,  and  telling  stories,  while  the  people,  stopping  as  they 
successively  came  up,  were  soon  gathered  in  a  crowd  behind  them. 
Then  the  old  men  rose,  drew  their  buffalo  robes  over  their  shoul- 
ders, and  strode  on  as  before.  Gaining  the  top  of  the  hill,  we  found 
a  very  steep  declivity  before  us.  There  was  not  a  minute's  pause. 
The  whole  descended  in  a  mass,  amid  dust  and  confusion.  The 
horses  braced  their  feet  as  they  slid  down,  women  and  children 
were  screaming,  dogs  yelping  as  they  were  trodden  upon,  while 
stones  and  earth  went  rolling  to  the  bottom.  In  a  few  moments 
I  could  see  the  village  from  the  summit,  spreading  again  far  and 
wide  over  the  plain  below. 

At  our  encampment  that  afternoon  I  was  attacked  anew  by  my 
old  disorder.  In  half  an  hour  the  strength  that  I  had  been  gaining 
for  a  week  past  had  vanished  again,  and  I  became  like  a  man  in  a 
dream.  But  at  sunset  I  lay  down  in  the  Big  Crow's  lodge  and  slept, 
totally  unconscious  till  the  morning.  The  first  thing  that  awakened 
me  was  a  hoarse  flapping  over  my  head,  and  a  sudden  light  that 
poured  in  upon  me.  The  camp  was  breaking  up,  and  the  squaws 
were  moving  the  covering  from  the  lodge.  I  arose  and  shook  off  my 
blanket  with  the  feeling  of  perfect  health;  but  scarcely  had  I 
gained  my  feet  when  a  sense  of  my  helpless  condition  was  once 
more  forced  upon  me,  and  I  found  myself  scarcely  able  to  stand. 
Raymond  had  brought  up  Pauline  and  the  mule,  and  I  stooped  to 
raise  my  saddle  from  the  ground.  My  strength  was  quite  inadequate 
to  the  task.  "You  must  saddle  her,"  said  I  to  Raymond,  as  I  sat 
down  again  on  a  pile  of  buffalo  robes : 

"Et  hcsc  etiam  fortasse  memirdsse  juvabit." 

I  thought,  while  with  a  painful  effort  I  raised  myself  into  the 
saddle.  Half  an  hour  after,  even  the  expectation  that  Virgil's  line 
expressed  seemed  destined  to  disappointment.  As  we  were  passing 
over  a  great  plain,  surrounded  by  long  broken  ridges,  I  rode 
slowly  in  advance  of  the  Indians,  with  thoughts  that  wandered  far 
from  the  time  and  from  the  place.  Suddenly  the  sky  darkened,  and 
thunder  began  to  mutter.  Clouds  were  rising  over  the  hills,  as 
dreary  and  dull  as  the  first  forebodings  of  an  approaching  calamity ; 
and  it  a  moment  all  around  was  wrapped  in  shadow.  I  looked  be- 
hind. The  Indians  had  stopped  to  prepare  for  the  approaching 
storm,  and  the  dark,  dense  mass  of  savages  stretched  far  to  the 


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162 


The  Oregon  Trail 


!r 


right  and  left.  Since  the  first  attack  of  my  disorder  the  effects  of 
rain  upon  me  had  usually  been  injurious  in  the  extreme.  I  had  m 
strength  to  spare,  having  at  that  moment  scarcely  enough  to  keep 
my  seat  on  horseback  Then,  for  the  first  time,  it  pressed  upon  me 
as  a  strong  probability  that  I  might  never  leave  those  deserts. 
"Well,"  thought  I  to  myself,  *'a  prairie  makes  quick  and  sharp 
work.  Better  to  die  here,  in  the  saddle  to  the  last,  than  to  stifle  in 
the  hot  air  of  a  sick  chamber,  and  a  thousand  times  bett?r  than  to 
drag  out  life,  as  many  have  done,  in  the  helpless  inaction  of  linger- 
ing disease."  So,  drawing  the  buffalo  robe  on  which  I  sat  over  my 
head,  I  waited  till  the  ^-torm  jhold  come.  It  broke  at  last  wliha 
sue  en  burst  of  fury,  v  *■  >  .s-p,^  away  as  rapidly  as  it  came,  left 
the  sky  clear  again.  Mv  r<  ile  fions  served  me  no  other  purpose 
than  to  look  back  upon  aj  u  pice  of  curious  experience ;  for  the 
rain  did  not  produce  the  ill  effects  that  I  had  expected.  We  en- 
camped within  an  hour.  Having  no  change  of  clothes,  I  contrived 
to  borrow  a  curious  kind  of  substitute  from  Reynal :  and  this  done, 
I  went  home,  that  is,  to  the  Big  Crow's  lodge  to  make  the  entire 
transfer  that  was  necessary.  Half  a  dozen  squaws  were  in  the 
lodge,  and  one  of  them  taking  my  arm  held  it  against  her  own, 
while  a  general  laugh  and  scream  of  admiration  were  raised  at  the 
contrast  in  the  color  of  the  skin. 

Our  encampment  that  afternoon  wis  not  far  distant  from  a  spur 
of  the  Black  Hills,  whose  ridges,  bribtling  with  fir  trees,  rose  from 
the  plains  a  mile  or  two  on  our  right.  That  they  might  move  more 
rapidly  toward  their  proposed  hunting-grounds,  the  Indians  deter- 
mined to  l**ave  at  this  place  their  stock  of  dried  meat  and  other 
superfluous  articles.  Some  left  even  their  lodges,  and  contented 
themselves  with  carrying  a  few  hides  to  make  a  shelter  from  the 
sun  and  rain.  Half  the  inhabitants  set  out  in  the  afternoon,  with 
loaded  pack  horses,  toward  the  mountains.  Here  they  suspended 
the  dried  meat  upon  trees,  where  the  wolves  and  grizzly  bears 
could  not  get  at  it.  All  returned  at  evening.  Some  of  the  young  men 
declared  that  they  had  heard  the  reports  of  guns  among  the  moun- 
tains to  the  eastward,  and  many  surmises  were  thrown  out  as  to 
the  origin  of  these  sounds.  For  my  part,  I  was  in  hopes  that  Shaw 
and  Henry  Chatillon  were  coming  to  join  us.  I  would  have  wel- 
comed them  cordially,  for  I  had  no  other  companions  than  two 
brutish  white  men  and  five  hundred  savages.  I  little  suspected  that 


[■  f 


The  Oregon  Trail 


163 


at  that  very  moment  my  unlucky  comrade  was  lying  on  a  buffalo 
robe  at  Fort  Laramie,  fevered  with  ivy  poison,  and  solacing  his 
w(jes  with  tobacco  and  Shakespeare. 

As  we  moved  over  the  plams  on  the  next  morning,  several  young 
nier  were  riding  about  the  country  as  scouts ;  and  at  length  we  be- 
ga'  *o  sec  them  nccr-sioi.  dly  on  the  tops  of  the  hills,  shaking  their 
rol-  ?s  a  signal  thai  they  saw  buffalo.  Soon  after,  some  bulls 
cami  in  sight.  Horsemen  darted  a  /ay  in  pursuit,  and  we  could  see 
fr  '  the  Jistance  tiiat  one  or  tv/o  of  the  buffalo  were  killed.  Ray- 
ni  nd  suddenly  became  inspired.  I  looked  at  him  as  he  rode  by  my 
side ;  his  face  natl  actually  grown  intelligent ! 

"This  is  the  country  for  me !"  he  said ;  "if  I  could  only  carry 
the  buffalo  that  are  killed  here  every  month  down  to  St.  Louis  I'd 
make  my  fortune  in  one  winter.  I'd  grow  as  rich  as  old  Papin,  or 
Mackenzie  either.  I  call  this  the  poor  man's  market,  vv"  »n  I'm 
hungry  I  have  only  got  to  take  my  rifle  and  go  out  a  'd  g  better 
meat  than  the  rich  folks  down  below  can  get  with  all  ti^Mr  money. 
You  won't  catch  me  living  in  St.  Louis  another  wintei  " 

"No,"  said  Reynal,  "you  had  better  say  that  >fter  you  and 
y^ur  Spanish  woman  almost  starved  to  death  thetv  ^\hat  a  fool 
you  were  ever  to  take  her  to  the  settlements." 

"Your  Spanish  woman?"  said  I;  "I  never  heard  of  her  before. 
Are  you  married  to  her  ?" 

"No,"  answered  Raymond,  again  looking  intelligent ;  "the  priests 
don't  marry  their  women,  and  why  should  I  marry  mine  ?" 

This  honorable  mention  of  the  Mexican  clergy  introduced  the 
subject  of  religion,  and  I  found  that  my  two  associates,  in  common 
with  other  white  men  in  the  country,  were  as  indifferent  to  their 
future  welfare  as  men  whose  lives  are  in  constant  peril  are  apt  to 
be.  Raymond  had  never  heard  of  the  Pope.  A  certain  bishop,  who 
lived  at  Taos  or  at  Santa  Fe,  embodied  his  loftiest  idea  of  an  ec- 
clesiastical dignitary.  Reynal  observed  that  a  priest  had  been  at 
Fort  Laramie  two  years  ago,  on  his  way  to  the  Nez  Perce  mission, 
and  that  he  had  confessed  all  the  men  there  and  given  them  absolu- 
tion. "I  got  a  good  clearing  out  myself  that  time,"  said  Reynal, 
"and  I  reckon  that  will  do  for  me  till  I  go  down  to  the  settlements 
again." 

Here  he  interrupted  himself  with  an  oath  and  exclaimed :  "Look  1 
look !  The  Panther  is  running  an  antelope  I" 


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164 


The  Oregon  Trail 


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The  Panther,  on  his  black  and  white  horse,  one  of  the  best  in 
the  village,  came  at  full  speed  over  the  hill  in  hot  pursuit  of  an 
antelopi^  that  darted  away  like  lightning  before  him.  The  attempt 
was  made  in  mere  sport  and  bravado,  for  very  few  are  the  horses 
that  can  for  a  moment  compete  in  swiftness  with  this  little  animal. 
The  antelope  ran  down  the  hill  toward  the  main  body  of  the  In- 
dians who  were  moving  over  the  plain  below.  Sharp  yells  were 
given  and  horsemen  galloped  out  to  intercept  his  flight.  At  this 
he  turned  sharply  to  the  left  and  scoured  away  with  such  incredible 
speed  that  he  distanced  all  his  pursuers  and  even  the  vaunted  horse 
of  the  Panther  himself.  A  few  moments  after  we  witnessed  a  more 
serious  sport.  A  shaggy  buffalo  bull  bounded  out  from  a  neighbor- 
ing hollow,  and  close  behind  him  came  a  slender  Indian  boy,  riding 
without  stirrups  or  saddle  and  lashing  his  eager  little  horse  to  full 
speed.  Yard  after  yard  he  drew  closer  to  his  gigantic  victim, 
though  the  bull,  with  his  short  tail  erect  and  his  tongue  lolling 
out  a  foot  from  his  foaming  jaws,  was  straining  his  unwieldy 
strength  to  the  utmost.  A  moment  more  and  the  boy  was  close 
alongside  of  him.  It  was  our  friend  the  Hail-Storm.  He  dropped 
the  rein  on  his  horse's  neck  and  jerked  an  arrow  like  lightning 
from  the  quiver  at  his  shoulder. 

"I  tell  you,"  said  Reyna^  "that  in  a  year's  time  that  boy  will 
match  the  best  hunter  in  thr  village.  There  he  has  given  it  to  him! 
and  there  goes  another !  You  feel  well,  now,  old  bull,  don't  you,  with 
two  arrows  stuck  in  your  lights?  There,  he  has  given  him  another! 
Hear  how  the  Hail-Storm  yells  when  he  shoots !  Yes,  jump  at  him; 
try  it  again,  old  fellow !  You  may  jump  all  day  before  you  get 
your  horns  into  that  pony !" 

The  bull  sprang  again  and  again  at  his  assailant,  but  the  horse 
kept  dodging  with  wonderful  celerity.  At  length  the  bull  followed 
up  his  attack  with  a  furious  rush,  and  the  Hail-Storm  was  put  to 
flight,  the  shaggy  monster  following  close  behind.  The  boy  clung 
in  his  seat  like  a  leech,  and  secure  in  the  speed  of  his  little  pony, 
looked  round  toward  us  and  laughed.  In  a  moment  he  was  again 
alongside  of  the  bull,  who  was  now  driven  to  complete  desperation. 
His  eyeballs  glared  through  his  tangled  mane,  and  the  blood  flew 
from  his  mouth  and  nostrils.  Thus,  still  battling  with  each  other, 
the  two  enemies  disappeared  over  the  hill. 

Many  of  the  Indians  rode  at  full  gallop  toward  the  spot.  Wc 


The  Oregon  Trail 


165 


followed  at  a  more  moderate  pace,  and  soon  saw  the  bull  lying 
(lead  on  the  side  of  the  hill.  The  Indians  were  gathered  around 
him,  and  several  knives  were  already  at  work.  These  little  instru- 
ments were  plied  with  such  wonderful  address  that  the  twisted 
sinews  were  cut  apart,  the  ponderous  bones  fell  assunder  as  if  by 
magic,  and  in  a  moment  the  vast  carcass  was  reduced  to  a  heap  of 
bloody  ruins.  The  surrounding  group  of  savages  offered  no  very 
attractive  spectacle  to  a  civilized  eye.  Some  were  cracking  the 
hujje  thigh-l)ones  and  devouring  the  marrow  within ;  others  were 
cutting  away  pieces  of  the  liver  and  other  approved  morsels,  and 
swallowing  them  on  the  spot  with  the  appetite  of  wolves.  The  faces 
of  most  of  them,  besmeared  with  blood  from  ear  to  ear,  looked 
grim  and  horrible  enough.  My  friend  the  White  Shield  proffered  N^ 
me  a  marrowbone,  so  skillfully  laid  open  tuat  all  the  rich  substanceV  ^ 
within  was  ex|X)sed  to  view  at  once.  Another  Indian  held  out  a^^ 
large  piece  of  the  delicate  lining  of  the  paunch ;  but  these  courteous 
offerings  I  begged  leave  to  decline.  I  noticed  one  little  boy  who 
was  very  busy  with  his  knife  about  the  jaws  and  throat  of  the  buf- 
falo, from  which  he  extracted  some  morsel  of  peculiar  delicacy.  It 
is  but  fair  to  say  that  only  certain  parts  of  the  animal  are  consid- 
ered eligible  in  these  extempore  banquets.  The  Indians  would  look 
with  abhorrence  on  anyone  who  should  partake  indiscriminately 
of  the  newly  killed  carcass. 

We  encamped  that  night,  and  marched  westward  through  the 
greater  part  of  the  following  day.  On  the  next  morning  we  again 
resumed  our  journey.  It  was  the  17th  of  July,  unless  my  note- 
book misleads  me.  At  noon  we  stopped  by  some  pools  of  rain- 
water, and  in  the  afternoon  again  set  forward.  This  double  move- 
ment was  contrary  to  the  usual  practice  of  the  Indians,  but  all  were 
very  anxious  to  reach  the  hunting  ground,  kill  the  necessary  num- 
kr  of  buffalo,  and  retreat  as  soon  as  possible  from  the  dangerous 
neighborhood.  I  pass  by  for  the  present  some  curious  incidents 
that  occurred  during  these  marches  and  encampments.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  last-mentioned  day  we  came  upon  the  banks  of  a 
litde  sandy  stream,  of  which  the  Indians  could  not  tell  the  name ; 
for  they  were  very  ill  acquainted  with  that  part  of  the  country.  So 
parched  and  arid  were  the  prairies  around  that  they  could  not 
supply  grass  enough  for  the  horses  to  feed  upon,  and  we  were 
compelled  to  move  farther  and  farther  up  the  stream  in  search  of 


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166  The  Oregon  Trail 

ill  ground  for  encampment.  The  country  was  much  wilder  than  before. 
The  plains  were  gashed  with  ravines  and  broken  into  hollows  and 
steep  declivities,  which  flanked  our  course,  as,  in  lonp-scattered 
array,  the  Indians  advanced  up  the  side  of  the  stream.  Mene-Seela 
O  consulted  an  extraordinary  oracle  to  instruct  him  where  the  bufTalo 
were  to  be  found.  When  he  with  the  other  chiefs  sat  down  on  the 
grass  to  smoke  and  converse,  as  they  often  did  during  the  march, 
the  old  man  picked  up  one  of  those  enormous  black-and-prccn 
crickets,  which  th^  Dakota  call  by  a  name  that  signifies  "Tliey  who 
point  out  the  buffalo."  The  Root-Diggers,  a  wretched  tribe  beyond 
the  mountains,  tur^i  them  to  good  account  by  making  them  into  a 
sort  of  soup,  pronounced  by  certain  unscrupulous  trappers  to  be 
extremely  rich.  Holding  the  bloated  insect  respectfully  between  his 
fingers  and  thumb,  \the  old  Indian  looked  attentively  at  him  and 
inquired,  "Tell  me,  -iny  father,  where  must  we  go  to-morrow  to 
find  the  buffalo?"  The  cricket  twisted  about  his  long  horns  in 
evident  embarrassment.  At  last  he  pointed,  or  seemed  to  point. 
them  westward.  Merie-Seela,  dropping  him  gently  on  the  ^rass, 
laughed  with  great  glie,  and  said  that  if  we  went  that  way  in  the 
morning  we  should  beWre  to  kill  plenty  of  game./  j* 

Toward  evening  we  came  upon  a  fresh  green  meaoow,  traversed 
by  the  stream,  and  deep-get  among  tall  sterile  bluffs.  The  Indians 
descended  its  steep  bank ;  and  as  I  was  at  the  rear,  I  was  one  of 
the  last  to  reach  this  point.  Lances  were  glittering,  feathers  flutter- 
ing, and  the  water  below  me  was  crowded  with  men  and  horses 
passing  through,  while  the  meadow  beyond  was  swarming  with  the 
restless  crowd  of  Indians.  The  sun  was  just  setting,  and  poured 
its  softened  light  upon  them  through  an  opening  in  the  hills. 

I  remarked  to  Reynal  that  at  last  we  had  found  a  good  camping- 
ground. 

**Oh,  it  is  very  good,"  replied  he  ironically;  "especially  if  there 
is  a  Snake  war  party  about,  and  they  take  it  into  their  heads  to 
shoot  down  at  us  from  the  top  of  these  hills.  It  is  no  plan  of  mine, 
camping  in  such  a  hole  as  this !" 

The  Indians  also  seemed  apprehensive.  High  up  on  the  top  of 
the  tallest  bluff,  conspicuous  in  the  bright  evening  sunlight,  sat  a 
naked  warrior  on  horseback,  looking  around,  as  it  seemed,  over 
the  neighboring  country ;  and  Raymond  told  me  that  many  of  the 
young  men  had  gone  out  in  different  directions  as  scouts. 


j^. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


167 


The  shadows  had  reached  to  the  very  summit  of  the  bluflfs  before 
the  lod^^'s  were  erected  and  the  village  reduced  again  to  quiet  and 
order.  A  cry  was  suddenly  raised,  and  men,  women,  and  children 
came  running  out  with  animated  faces,  and  looked  eagerly  through 
the  opening  on  the  hills  by  which  the  stream  entered  from  the 
westward.  I  could  discern  afar  oflf  some  dark,  heavy  masses,  pass- 
ing over  the  sides  of  a  low  hill.  They  disappeared,  and  then  others 
followed.  These  were  bands  of  buffalo  cows.  The  hunting  ground 
was  reached  at  last,  and  everything  promised  well  for  the  morrow's 
sjjort.  Heiiig  fatigued  and  exhausted,  I  went  and  lay  down  in 
Koti^^ra-Tonga's  lodge,  when  Raymond  thrust  in  his  heatl,  and 
callccl  upon  me  to  come  and  see  some  sport.  A  number  of  Indians 
were  gathered,  laughing,  along  the  line  of  lodges  on  the  western 
side  of  the  village,  and  at  some  distance,  I  could  plainly  see  in  the 
twilight  two  huge  black  monsters  stalking,  heavily  and  solemnly, 
directly  toward  us.  They  were  buffalo  bulls.  The  wind  blew  from 
tluni  to  the  village,  and  such  was  their  blindness  and  stupidity  that 
they  were  advancing  upon  the  enemy  without  the  least  conscious- 
ness of  his  presence.  Raymond  told  me  that  two  men  had  hidden 
themselves  with  guns  in  a  ravine  about  twenty  yards  in  front  of 
us.  The  two  bulls  walked  slowly  on,  heavily  swinging  from  side 
to  side  in  their  peculiar  gait  of  stupid  dignity.  They  approached 
within  four  or  five  rods  of  the  ravine  where  the  Indians  lay  in  am- 
bush. Here  at  last  they  seemed  conscious  that  something  was 
wrong,  for  they  both  stopped  and  stood  perfectly  still,  without 
looking  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left.  Nothing  of  them  was  to 
he  seen  but  two  huge  black  masses  of  shaggy  mane,  with  horns, 
eyes,  and  nose  in  the  center,  and  a  pair  of  hoofs  visible  at  the  bot- 
tom. At  last  the  more  intelligent  of  them  seemed  to  have  concluded 
that  it  was  time  to  retire.  Very  slowly,  and  with  an  air  of  the 
|2:ravest  and  most  majestic  deliberation,  he  began  to  turn  round,  as 
if  he  were  revolvii  '  on  a  pivot.  Little  by  little  his  ugly  brown 
side  was  exposed  to  view.  A  white  smoke  sprang  out,  as  it  were 
from  the  ground;  a  si  arp  report  came  with  it.  The  old  bull  gave 
a  very  undignified  jump  and  galloped  off.  At  this  his  corp.radc 
wheeled  about  with  considerable  expedition.  The  other  Indian 
shot  at  him  from  the  ravine,  and  then  both  the  bulls  were  i  unning 
away  at  full  speed,  while  half  the  juvenile  population  of  tiie  vil- 
lage raised  a  yell  and  ran  after  them.  The  first  bull  was  soon 


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168 


The  Oregon  Trail 


stopped,  and  while  the  crowd  stood  looking  at  him  at  a  respectable 
distance,  he  reeled  and  rolled  over  on  his  side.  The  other,  wounded 
in  a  less  vital  part,  gallof.ed  away  to  the  hills  and  escaped. 

In  half  an  hour  it  was  totally  dark.  I  lay  down  to  sleep,  and  ill 
as  I  was,  there  was  something  very  animating  in  the  prospect  of 
the  general  hunt  that  was  to  take  place  on  the  morrow. 


Chapter  XV 
THE  HUNTING  CAMP 

Long  before  daybreak  the  Indians  broke  up  their  camp.  The 
women  of  Mene-Seela's  lodge  were  as  usual  among  the  first  that 
were  ready  for  departure,  and  I  found  the  old  man  himself  sitting 
by  the  embers  of  the  decayed  fire,  over  which  he  was  warming  his 
withered  fingers,  as  the  morning  was  very  chilly  and  damp.  The 
preparations  for  moving  were  even  more  confused  and  disorderly 
thsn  usual.  While  some  families  were  leaving  the  ground  the  lodges 
of  others  were  still  standing  untouched.  At  this  old  Mene-Seela 
grew  impatient,  and  walking  out  to  the  middle  of  the  village  stood 
with  his  robe  wrapped  close  around  him,  and  harangued  the  people 
in  a  loud,  sharp  voice.  Now,  he  said,  when  they  were  on  an  enemy's 
hunting  grounds,  was  not  the  time  to  behave  like  children;  they 
ought  to  he  more  active  and  united  than  ever.  His  speech  had  some 
eflFect.  The  delinquents  took  down  their  lodges  and  loaded  their 
pack  horses ;  and  when  the  sun  rose,  the  last  of  the  men,  women, 
and  children  had  left  the  deserted  camp. 

This  movement  was  made  merely  for  the  purpose  of  finding  a 
better  and  safer  position.  So  we  advanced  only  three  or  four  miles 
up  the  little  stream,  before  each  family  assumed  its  relative  place 
in  the  great  ring  of  the  village,  and  all  around  the  squaws  were 
actively  at  work  in  preparing  the  camp.  But  not  a  single  warrior 
dismounted  from  his  horse.  All  the  men  that  morning  were 
mounted  on  inferior  animals,  leading  their  best  horses  by  a  cord,  or 
confiding  them  to  the  care  of  boys.  In  small  parties  they  began  to 
leave  the  ground  and  ride  rapidly  away  over  the  plains  to  the  west- 
ward. I  had  taken  no  food  that  morning,  and  not  being  at  all 


/LJ^A^nrJ^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


169 


ambitious  of  further  aj;^stin«nfffl>..J  went  into  my  host's  lodge, 
which  his  squaws  had  erected  with  wonderful  celerity,  and  sat  down 
in  the  center,  as  a  gentle  hint  that  I  was  hungry.  A  wooden  bowl 
was  soon  set  before  me,  filled  with  the  nutritious  preparation  of 
dried  meat  called  pemmican  by  the  northern  voyagers  and  wasna 
by  the  Dakota.  Taking  a  handful  to  break  my  fast  upon,  I  left  ihe 
lodge  just  in  time  to  see  th$  last  band  of  hunters  disappear  ever 
the  ridge  of  the  neighboring  hill.  I  mounted  Pauline  and  galloped 
in  pursuit,  riding  rather  by  the  balance  than  by  any  muscular 
strength  that  remained  to  tne.  From  the  top  of  the  hill  I  could 
overlook  a  wide  extent  oi  desolate  and  unbroken  prairie,  over 
which,  far  and  near,  little  parties  of  naked  horsemen  were  rapidly 
passing.  I  soon  came  up  to  the  nearest,  and  we  had  not  ridden  a 
mile  before  all  were  unitec  into  one  large  and  compact  body.  All 
was  haste  and  eagerness.  Ejach  hunter  was  whipping  on  his  horse, 
as  if  anxious  to  be  the  firstito  reach  the  game.  In  such  movements 
among  the  Indians  this  is  ajlways  more  or  less  the  case ;  but  it  was 
especially  so  in  the  present!  instance,  because  the  head  chief  of  the 
village  was  absent,  and  there  were  but  few  "soldiers,"  a  sort  of 
Indian  police,  who  among'  their  other  functions  usually  assumed 
the  direction  of  a  buffalo  hunt.  No  man  turned  to  the  right  hand  or 
to  the  left.  We  rodelat  a  swift  canter  straight  forward,  uphill  and 
downhill,  and  throuah  the  stiff,  obstinate  growth  of  the  endless 
wild-sage  bushes.  Fo}(  an  hpur  and  a  half  the  same  red  shoulders, 
the  same  long  black  ^air  rose  and  fell  with  the  motion  of  the 
horses  before  me.  Very  little  was  said,  though  once  I  observed  an 
old  man  severely  reproying  Raymond  for  having  left  his  rifle  be- 
hind him,  when  there  was  some  probability  of  encountering  an 
enemy  before  the  day  was  over.  As  we  galloped  across  a  plain 
thickly  set  with  sage  bushes,  the  foremost  riders  vanished  suddenly 
from  sight,  as  if  diving  into  the  earth.  The  arid  soil  was  cracked 
into  a  deep  ravine.  Down  we  all  went  in  succession  and  galloped 
in  a  line  along  the  bottom,  until  we  found  a  point  where,  one  by 
one,  the  horses  could  scramble  out.  Soon  after  we  came  upon  a  wide 
shallow  stream,  and  as  we  rode  swiftly  over  the  hard  sand-beds 
and  through  the  thin  sheets  of  rippling  water,  many  of  the  savage 
horsemen  threw  themselves  to  the  ground,  knelt  on  the  sand, 
snatched  a  hasty  draught,  and  leaping  back  again  to  their  seats, 
galloped  on  again  as  be  fere. 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


*,  .' 


Meanwhile  scouts  kept  in  advance  of  the  party ;  and  now  we  be- 
gan to  see  them  on  the  ridge  of  the  hills,  waving  their  robes  in  token 
that  buffalo  were  visible.  These  however  proved  to  be  nothing 
more  than  old  straggling  bulls,  feeding  upon  the  neighboring  plains, 
who  would  stare  for  a  moment  at  the  hostile  array  and  then  gallop 
clumsily  off.  At  length  we-  could  discern  several  of  these  scouts 
making  their  signals  to  us  at  once ;  no  longer  waving  their  robes 
boldly  from  the  top  of  the  hill,  but  standing  lower  down,  so  that 
they  could  not  be  seen  from  the  plains  beyond.  Game  worth  pur- 
suing had  evidently  been  discovered.  The  excited  Indians  now- 
urged  forward  their  tired  horses  ev^en  more  rapidly  than  before. 
Pauline,  who  was  still  sick  and  jaded,  began  to  groan  heavilv: 
and  her  yellow  sides  were  darkened  with  sweat.  As  we  were  crowd- 
ing together  over  a  lower  intervening  hill,  I  heard  Reynal  and 
Raymond  shouting  to  me  from  the  left ;  and  looking  in  that  direc- 
tion, I  saw  them  riding  a>\ay  behind  a  party  of  about  twenty  mean- 
looking   Indians.   These   were   the   relatives   of   Reynal's  squaw 
Margot,  who,  not  wishing  to  take  part  in  the  general  hunt,  were 
riding  toward  a  distant  hollow,  where  they  could  discern  a  small 
band  of  buffalo  which  they  meant  to  appropriate  to  themselves. 
I  answered  to  the  call  by  ordering  Raymond  to  turn  back  and 
follow  me.  He  reluctantly  obeyed,  though  Reynal,  who  had  relied 
on  his  assistance  in  skinning,  cutting  up,  and  carrying  to  camp  the 
buffalo  that  he  and  his  party  should  kill,  loudly  protested  and  de- 
clared that  we  should  see  no  sport  if  we  went  with  the  rest  of  the 
Indians.    Followed   by   Raymond   I   pursued  the  main   body  of 
hunters,  while  Reynal  in  a  great  rage  whipped  his  horse  over  the 
hill  after  his  ragamuffin  relatives.  The  Indians,  still  about  a  hun- 
dred in  number,  rode  in  a  dense  body  at  some  distance  in  advance. 
They  galloped  forward,  and  a  cloud  of  dust  was  flying  in  the  wind 
behind  them.  I  could  not  overtake  them  until  they  had  stopped  on 
the  side  of  the  hill  where  the  scouts  were  standing.  Here,  each 
hunter  sprang  in  haste  from  the  tired  animal  which  he  had  ridden. 
and  leaped  upon  the  fresh  horse  that  he  had  brought  with  him. 
There  was  not  a  saddle  or  a  bridle  in  the  whole  party.  A  piece  ot 
buffalo  robe  girthed  over  the  horse's  back  served  in  the  place  of 
the  one,  and  a  cord  of  twisted  hair  lashed  firmly  round  his  lower 
jaw  answered  for  the  other.  Eagle  feathers  were  dangling  from 
every  mane  and  tail,  as  insignia  of  courage  and  speed.  As  for  the 


i'*r 


The  Oregon  Trail 


171 


rider,  he  wore  no  other  clothing  than  a  light  cincture  at  his  waist,  \J 
and  a  pair  of  moccasins.  He  had  a  heavy  wKip,  with  a  handle  of  X 
solid  elk-horn,  and  a  lash  of  knotted  bull-hide,  fastened  to  his  wrist 
bv  an  ornamental  band.  His  bow  was  in  his  hand,  and  his  quiver 
of  otter  or  panther  skin  hung  at  his  shoulder.  Thus  equipped,  some 
thirty  of  the  hunters  galloped  away  toward  the  left,  in  order  to 
make  a  circuit  under  cover  of  the  hills,  that  the  buflfalo  might  be 
assailed  on  both  sides  at  once.  The  rest  impatiently  waited  until 
time  enough  had  elapsed  for  their  companions  to  reach  the  required 
position.  Then  riding  upward  in  a  body,  we  gained  the  ridge  of  the 
hill,  and  for  the  first  time  came  in  sight  of  the  buflfalo  on  the  plain 
beyond. 

They  were  a  band  of  cows,  four  or  five  hundred  in  number,  who 
were  crowded  together  near  the  bank  of  a  wide  stream  that  was 
soaking  across  the  sand-beds  of  the  valley.  This  was  a  large  cir- 
cular basin,  sun-scorched  and  broken,  scantily  covered  with  herbage 
and  encompassed  with  high  barren  hills,  from  an  opening  in  which 
we  could  see  our  allies  galloping  out  upon  the  plain.  The  wind 
blew  from  that  direction.  The  buffalo  were  aware  of  their  ap- 
proach, and  had  begun  to  move,  though  very  slowly  and  in  a  com- 
pact mass.  I  have  no  further  recollection  of  seeing  the  game  until 
we  were  in  the  midst  of  them,  for  as  we  descended  the  hill  other 
objects  engrossed  my  attention.  Numerous  old  bulls  were  scattered 
over  the  plain,  and  ungallantly  deserting  their  charge  at  our  ap- 
proach, began  to  wade  and  plunge  through  the  treacherous  quick- 
sands or  the  stream,  and  gallop  away  toward  the  hills.  One  old 
veteran  was  struggling  behind  all  the  rest  with  one  of  his  forelegs, 
which  had  been  broken  by  some  accident,  dangling  about  uselessly 
at  his  side.  His  appearance,  as  he  went  shambling  along  on  three 
legs,  was  so  ludicrous  that  I  could  not  help  pausing  for  a  moment 
to  look  at  him.  As  1  came  near,  he  would  try  to  rush  upon  me, 
nearly  throwing  himself  down  at  every  awkward  attempt.  Looking 
uj),  I  saw  the  whole  body  of  Indians  full  a  hundred  yards  in  ad- 
vance. I  lashed  Pauline  in  pursuit  and  reached  them  just  in  time, 
for  as  we  mingled  among  them,  each  hunter,  as  if  by  a  common 
impulse,  violently  struck  hs  horse,  each  horse  sprang  forward  con- 
vulsively, and  scatterr.g'  in  the  charge  in  order  to  assail  the  entire 
herd  at  once,  we  all  rushed  headlong  upon  the  buffalo.  We  were 
among  them  in  an  instant.  Amid  the  trampling  and  the  yells  I  could 


ii 


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H 


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172 


The  Oregon  Trail 


1^1  i 


see  their  dark  figures  running  hither  and  thither  through  clouds  of 
dust,  and  the  horsemen  darting  in  pursuit.  While  we  were  charg- 
ing  on  one  side,  our  companions  had  attacked  the  bewildered  and 
panic-stricken  herd  on  the  other.  The  uproar  and  confusion  lasted 
but  for  a  moment.  The  dust  cleared  away,  and  the  buffalo  could 
be  seen  scattering  as  from  a  common  center,  flying  over  the  plain 
singly,  or  in  long  files  and  small  compact  bodies,  while  behind  each 
followed  the  Indians,  lashing  their  horses  to  furious  speed,  forcing 
them  close  upon  their  prey,  and  yelling  as  they  launched  arrow 
after  arrow  into  their  sides.  The  large  black  carcasses  were  strewn 
thickly  ovei  the  ground.  Here  and  there  wounded  buffalo  were 
standing,  their  bleeding  sides  feathered  with  arrows ;  and  as  I  rode 
past  them  their  eyes  would  glare,  they  would  bristle  like  gigantic 
cats,  and  feebly  attempt  to  rush  up  and  gore  my  horse. 

I  left  camp  that  morning  with  a  philosophic  resolution.  Neither 
I  nor  my  horse  were  at  that  time  fit  for  such  sport,  and  I  had  de- 
termined to  remain  a  quiet  spectator ;  but  amid  the  rush  of  horses 
and  buffalo,  the  uproar  and  the  dust,  I  found  it  impossible  to  sit 
still ;  and  as  four  or  five  buflFalo  ran  past  me  in  a  line,  I  drove 
Pauline  in  pursuit.  We  went  plunging  close  at  their  heels  through 
the  water  and  the  quicksands,  and  clambering  the  bank,  chased 
them  through  the  wild-sage  bushes  that  covered  the  rising  ground 
beyond.  But  neither  her  native  spirit  nor  the  blows  of  the  knotted 
bull-hide  could  supply  the  place  of  poor  Pauline's  exhausted 
strength.  We  could  not  gain  an  inch  upon  the  poor  fugitives.  At 
last,  however,  they  came  full  upon  a  ravine  too  wide  to  leap  over; 
and  as  this  compelled  them  to  turn  abruptly  to  the  left,  I  contrived 
to  get  within  ten  or  twelve  yards  of  the  hindmost.  At  this  she 
faced  about,  bristled  angrily,  and  made  a  show  of  charging.  I  shot 
at  her  with  a  large  holster  pistol,  and  hit  her  somewhere  in  the 
neck.  Down  she  tumbled  into  the  ravine,  whither  her  companions 
had  descended  before  her.  I  saw  their  dark  backs  appearing  and 
disappearing  as  they  galloped  along  the  bottom ;  then,  one  hy  one, 
they  came  scrambling  out  on  the  other  side  and  ran  off  as  before, 
the  wounded  animal  following  with  unabated  speed. 

Turnrv^  back,  I  saw  Raymond  coming  on  his  black  mule  to 
meet  me :  and  as  we  rode  over  the  field  together,  we  counted  dozens 
of  carc^r,s^.s  King  :n  the  plain,  in  the  ravines  and  on  the  sandy  bed 
of  th    f.it'jani.  Far  away  in  the  distance,  horses  and  buffalo  were 


The  Oregon  Trail 


173 


Still  scouring  along,  with  little  clouds  of  dust  rising  behind  them ; 
and  over  the  sides  of  the  hills  we  could  see  long  files  of  the  fright- 
ened animals  rapidly  ascending.  The  hunters  began  to  return.  The 
bovs,  who  had  held  the  horses  behind  the  hill,  made  their  appear- 
ance, and  the  work  of  flaying  ard  cutting  up  began  in  earnest  all 
over  the  field.  I  notic^^d  my  host.  Kongra-Tonga  beyond  the  stream, 
just  alighting  by  the  side  of  a  cow  which  he  had  killed.  Riding  up 
to  him  I  found  him  in  the  act  of  drawing  out  an  arrow,  which, 
with  the  exception  of  the  notch  at  the  end,  had  entirely  disappeared 
in  the  animal.  I  asked  him  to  give  it  to  me,  and  I  still  retain  it  as  a 
proof,  though  by  no  means  the  most  striking  one  that  could  be  of- 
fered, of  the  force  and  dexterity  with  which  the  Indians  discharge 
their  arrows. 

The  hides  and  meat  wer  .  piled  upon  the  horses,  and  the  hunters 
began  to  leave  the  ground.  Raymond  and  I,  too,  getting  tired  of  the 
scene,  set  out  for  the  village,  riding  straight  across  the  intervening 
desert.  There  was  no  path,  and  as  far  as  I  could  see,  no  landmarks 
sufficient  to  guide  us ;  but  Raymond  seemed  to  have  an  instinctive 
perception  of  the  point  on  the  horizon  toward  which  we  ought  to 
direct  our  course.  Antelope  were  bounding  on  all  sides,  and  as  is 
always  the  ca?'^  in  the  presence  of  buflFalo,  they  seemed  to  have  lost 
their  natural  shyness  and  timidity.  Bands  of  them  would  run  lightly 
up  the  rocky  declivities,  and  stand  gazing  down  upon  us  from  the 
summit.  At  length  we  could  distinguish  the  tall  white  rocks  and  the 
old  pine  trees  that,  as  we  well  remembered,  were  just  above  the 
site  of  the  encampment.  Still,  we  could  see  nothing  of  the  village 
itself  until,  ascending  a  grassy  hill,  we  found  the  circle  o'  lodges, 
dingy  with  storms  and  smoke,  standing  on  the  plain  n  jur  very 
feet.      I    i'\ 

I  entered  the  lodge  of  my  host.  His  squaw  instantly  rought  me 
food  and  water,  and  spread  a  buflFalo  robe  for  me  to  li  upon ;  and 
being  much  fatigued,  I  lay  down  and  fell  asleep.  In  p^nut  an  hour 
the  entrance  of  Kongra-Tonga,  with  his  arms  smear  a  with  blood 
I  to  the  elbows,  awoke  me.  He  sat  down  in  his  usual  seat  on  the  left 
sifle  of  the  lodge.  His  squaw  gave  him  a  vessel  of  water  for  wash- 
ing, set  l)efore  him  a  bowl  of  boiled  meat,  and  as  he  was  eating 
[pulled  off  his  bloody  moccasins  and  placed  fresh  ones  on  his  feet; 
I  then  outstretching  his  limbs,  my  host  composed  himself    o  sleep. 

And  now  the  hunters,  two  or  three  at  a  time,  began  to  come 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


rapidly  in,  and  each,  consigiang  his  horses  to  the  squaws,  entered 
his  lodge  with  the  air  of  a  man  whose  day's  work  was  done.  The 
squaws  flung  down  the  load  from  the  burdened  horses,  and  vast 
piles  of  meat  and  hides  were  soon  accumulated  before  every  lodge. 
By  this  time  it  was  darkening  fast,  and  the  whole  village  was 
illumined  by  the  glare  of  fires  blazing  all  around.  All  the  squaws 
and  children  were  gathered  about  the  piles  of  meat,  exploring  them 
in  search  of  the  daintiest  portions.  Some  of  these  they  roasted  on 
sticks  before  the  fires,  but  often  they  dispensed  with  this  super- 
fluous operation.  Late  into  the  night  the  fires  were  still  glowing 
upon  the  groups  of  feasters  engaged  in  this  savage  banquet  around 
them. 

Several  hunters  sat  down  by  the  fire  in  Kongra-Tonga's  lodge 
to  talk  over  the  day's  exploits.  Among  the  rest,  Mene-Seela  came 
in.  Though  he  must  have  seen  full  eighty  winters,  he  had  taken  an 
active  share  in  the  day's  sport.  He  boasted  that  he  had  killed  two 
cows  that  morning,  and  would  have  killed  a  third  if  the  dust  had  not 
blind  id  him  so  that  he  had  to  drop  his  bow  and  arrows  and  press 
both  hands  against  his  eyes  to  stop  the  pain.  The  firelight  fell  upon 
his  wrinkled  face  and  shriveled  figure  as  he  sat  telling  his  story 
with  such  inimitable  gesticulation  that  every  man  in  the  lodge  broke 
into  a  laugh. 

Old  Mene-Seela  was  one  of  the  few  Indians  in  the  village  with 
whom  I  would  have  trusted  myself  alone  without  suspicion,  and 
the  only  one  from  whom  I  would  have  received  a  gift  or  a  service 
without  the  certainty  that  it  proceeded  from  an  interested  nioiive 
He  was  a  great  friend  to  the  whites.  He  liked  to  be  in  their 
society,  and  was  very  vain  of  the  favors  he  had  received  from  them, 
He  told  me  one  afternoon,  as  we  were  sitting  together  in  his  sons 
lodge,  that  he  considered  the  beaver  and  the  whites  the  wisest  peo- 
ple on  earth ;  mdeed,  he  was  convinced  they  were  the  same ;  and 
an  incident  which  had  happened  to  him  long  before  had  assured 
him  of  this.  So  he  began  the  following  story,  and  as  tlie  pipe  passed 
in  turn  to  him,  Reynal  availed  himself  of  these  interruptions  to 
translate  what  had  preceded.  But  the  old  man  accompanied  his 
words  with  such  admirable  pantomime  that  translation  was  har(!i/ 
necessary. 

He  said  that  when  he  was  very  young,  and  had  never  yet  seen  a 
white  man,  he  and  three  or  four  of  his  companions  were  out  on  a  N 


^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


175 


beaver  hunt,  and  he  crawled  into  a  large  beaver  lodge,  to  examine 
what  was  there.  Sometimes  he  was  creeping  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
sometimes  he  was  obliged  to  swim,  and  sometimes  to  lie  flat  on  his 
face  and  drag  himself  along.  In  this  way  he  crawled  a  great  dis- 
tance underground.  It  was  very  dark,  cold  and  close,  so  that  at 
last  he  was  almost  suffocated,  and  fell  into  a  swoon.  When  he  be- 
gan to  recover,  he  could  just  distinguish  the  voices  of  his  compan- 
ions outside,  who  had  given  him  up  for  lost,  and  were  singing  his 
death  song.  At  first  he  could  see  nothing,  but  soon  he  discerned 
something  white  before  him,  and  at  length  plainly  distinguished 
three  people,  entirely  white :  one  man  and  two  women,  sitting 
at  the  edge  of  a  black  pool  of  water.  He  became  alarmed  and 
thought  it  high  time  to  retreat.  Having  succeeded,  after  great 
trouble,  in  reaching  daylight  again,  he  went  straight  to  the  spot 
directly  above  the  pool  of  water  where  he  had  seen  the  three  mys- 
terious beings.  Here  he  beat  a  hole  with  his  war  club  in  the  ground, 
and  sat  down  to  watch.  In  a  moment  the  nose  of  an  old  male  beaver 
appeared  at  the  opening.  Mene-Seela  instantly  seized  him  and 
draj^gcd  him  up,  when  two  other  beavers,  both  females,  thrust  out 
their  licads,  and  these  he  served  in  the  same  wk;  These,"  con- 
tinucd  the  old  man,  "must  have  been  the  three  white  people  whom 
I  saw  sitting  at  the  edge  of  the  water." 

Mene-Seela  was  the  grand  dc^xDsitory  of  the  legends  and  tradi- 
tions of  the  village.  I  succeeded,  nowever,  in  getting  from  him  only 
a  few  fragments.  Like  all  Indians,  he  w.as  e:x^c.essively  superstitious, 
and  continually  saw  some  reason  for  withholding  his  stories.  "It 
is  a  bad  thing,"  he  would  say,  "to  tell  the  tales  in  summer.  Stay 
with  us  till  next  winter,  and  I  will  tell  you  everything  I  know ; 
but  now  our  war  parties  are  going  out,  and  our  young  men  will  be 
killed  if  I  sit  down  to  tell  stories  before  the  frost  begins." 

But  to  leave  this  digression.  We  remained  encamped  on  this  spot 
five  (lays,  during  three  of  which  the  hunters  were  at  work  inces- 
santly, and  immense  quantities  of  meat  and  hides  were  brought  in. 
Cjreat  ularni,  however,  prevailed  in  the  village.  All  were  on  the 
alert.  The  young  men  were  ranging  through  the  country  as  scouts, 
and  the  old  men  paid  careful  attention  to  omens  and  prodigies,  and 
especially  to  their  dreams.  In  order  to  convey  to  the  enemy  (who, 
if  they  were  in  the  neighborhood,  must  inevitably  have  known  of 
our  presence)  the  impression  that  we  were  constantly  on  the  watch, 


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176 


The  Oregon  Trail 


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f      "'i                         > 

piles  of  sticks  and  stones  were  erected  on  all  the  surrounding  hills, 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  appear  at  a  distance  like  sentinels.  Often, 
even  to  this  hour,  that  scene  will  rise  before  my  mind  like  a  visible 
reality :  the  tall  white  rocks ;  the  old  pine  trees  on  their  summits ; 
the  sandy  stream  that  ran  along  their  bases  and  half  encircled  the 
village;  and  the  wild-sage  bushes,  with  their  dull  green  hue  and 
their  medicinal  odor,  that  covered  all  the  neighboring  declivities. 
Hour  after  hour  the  squaws  would  pass  and  repass  with  their 
vessels  of  water  between  the  stream  and  the  lodges.  For  the  most 
part  no  one  was  to  be  seen  in  the  camp  but  women  and  children, 
two  or  three  superannuated  old  men,  and  a  few  lazy  and  worthless 
young  -es.  These,  together  with  the  dogs,  now  grown  fat  and 
good-natured  with  the  abundance  in  the  camp,  v,ere  its  only  tenants. 
Still  it  presented  a  busy  and  bustling  scene.  In  all  quarters  the 
meat,  hung  en  cords  of  hide,  was  drying  in  the  sun,  and  around 
the  lodges  the  squaws,  young  and  old,  were  laboring  on  the  fresh 
hides  that  were  stretched  upon  the  ground,  scraping  the  hair  from 
one  side  and  the  still  adhering  flesh  from  tlie  other,  and  rubbing 
into  them  the  brains  of  the  buffalo,  in  order  to  render  them  soft 
and  pliant. 

In  mercy  to  myself  and  my  horse,  I  never  went  out  with  the 
hunters  after  the  first  day.  Of  late,  however,  I  had  been  gaining 
strength  rapidly,  as  was  always  the  case  upon  every  respite  of  my 
disorder.  I  was  soon  able  to  walk  with  ease.  Raymond  and  I  would 
go  out  upon  the  neighboring  prairies  to  shoot  antelope,  or  some- 
times to  assail  straggling  buffalo,  on  foot,  an  attempt  in  which  we 
met  with  rather  indifferent  success.  To  kill  a  bull  with  a  rifle- 
ball  is  a  difficult  art,  in  the  secret  of  which  I  was  as  yet  very  im- 
perfectly initiated.  As  I  came  out  of  Kongra-Tonga's  lodge  one 
morning,  Reynal  called  to  me  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  village, 
and  asked  me  over  to  breakfast.  The  breakfast  was  a  substantial 
one.  It  consisted  of  the  rid ,  juicy  hump-ribs  of  a  fat  cow ;  a  re- 
past absolutely  unrivaled.  It  was  roasting  before  the  fire,  impaled 
upon  a  stout  stick,  which  Reynal  took  up  and  planted  in  the  ground 
before  his  lodge ;  when  he,  with  Raymond  and  myself,  taking  our 
seats  around  it,  unsheathed  our  knives  and  assailed  it  with  good 
will.  In  spite  of  all  medical  experience,  this  solid  fare,  without 
bread  or  salt,  seemed  to  agree  with  me  admirably. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


177 


"We  shall  have  strangers  here  before  night,"  said  Reynal. 

"How  do  you  know  that  ?"  I  asked. 

"I  dreamed  so.  I  am  as  good  at  dreaming  as  an  Indian.  There 
is  the  Hail-Storm;  he  dreamed  the  same  thing,  and  he  and  his 
crony,  the  Rabbit,  have  gone  out  on  discovery. 

I  laughed  at  Reynal  for  his  credulity,  went  over  to  my  host's 
lodge,  took  down  my  rifle,  walkW  5l!t  a  mile  or  two  on  the  prairie, 
saw  an  old  bull  standing  alone,  crawled  up  a  ravine,  shot  him  and 
saw  him  escape.  Then,  quite  exhausted  and  rather  ill-humored,  I 
walked  back  to  the  village.  By  a  strange  coincidence,  Reynal's 
prediction  had  been  verified ;  for  the  first  persons  whom  I  saw 
were  the  two  trappers.  Rouleau  and  Saraphin,  coming  to  meet  me. 
These  men,  as  the  reader  may  possibly  recollect,  had  left  our  party 
about  a  fortnight  before.  They  had  been  trapping  for  a  while 
among  the  Black  Hills,  and  were  now  on  their  way  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  intending  in  a  day  or  two  to  set  out  for  the  neighbor- 
ing Medicine  Bow.  They  were  not  the  most  elegant  or. refined  of 
companions,  yet  they  made  a  very  welcome  addition  to  the  limited 
society  of  the  village.  For  the  resf  of  that  day  we  lay  smoking  and 
talking  in  Reynal's  lodge.  This  indeed  was  no  better  than  a  little 
hut,  made  of  hides  stretched  on  poles,  and  entirely  open  in  front. 
It  was  well  carpeted  with  soft  buffalo  robes,  and  here  we  remained, 
sheltered  from  the  sun,  surrounded  by  various  domestic  utensils 
of  Madame  Margot's  household.  All  was  quiet  in  the  village. 
Though  the  hunters  had  not  gone  out  that  day,  they  lay  sleeping 
in  their  lodges,  and  most  of  the  women  were  silently  engaged  in 
their  heavy  tasks.  A  few  young  men  were  playing  a  lazygai 
ball  in  the  center  of  the  village ;  and  when  they  became  tired,  some 
girls  supplied  their  place  with  a  more  boisterous  sport.  At  a  little 
distance,  among  the  lodges,  some  children  and  half -grown  squaws 
were  playfully  tossing  up  one  of  their  number  in  a  buffalo  robe, 
an  exact  counterpart  of  the  ancient  pastime  from  which  Sancho 
Panza  suffered  so  much.  Farther  out  on  the  prairie,  a  host  of  little 
naked  boys  were  roaming  about,  engaged  in  various  rough  games, 
or  pursuing  birds  and  ground-squirrels  with  their  bows  and  ar- 
rows; and  woe  to  the  unhappy  little  animals  that  fell  into  their 
merciless,  torture-loving  hands!  A  squaw  from  the  next  lodge,  a 
notable  active  housewife  named  Weah  Washtay,  or  the  Good 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


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Woman,  brought  us  a  large  bowl  of  Wasna,  and  went  into  an 
ecstasy  of  delight  when  I  presented  her  with  a  green  glass  ring, 
such  as  I  usually  wore  with  a  view  to  similar  occasions. 

The  sun  went  down  and  half  the  sky  was  growing  fiery  red, 
reflected  on  the  little  stream  as  it  wound  away  among  the  sage- 
bushes.  Some  young  men  left  the  village,  and  soon  returned,  driv- 
ing in  before  them  all  the  horses,  hundreds  in  number,  and  of 
every  size,  age,  and  color.  The  hunters  came  out,  and  each  securing 
those  that  belonged  to  him,  examined  their  condition,  and  tied 
them  fast  by  long  cords  to  stakes  driven  in  front  of  his  lodge.  It 

Y  was  half  an  hour  before  the  bustle  subsided  and  tranquillity  was 
restored  again.  By  this  time  it  was  nearly  dark.  Kettles  were  hung 

\    over  the  blazing  fires,  around  which  the  squaws  were  gathered 

with  their  children,  laughing  and  talking  merrily.  A  circle  of  a 

j    different  kind  was  formed  in  the  center  of  the  village.  This  was 

V  composed  of  the  old  men  and  warriors  of  repute,  who  with  their 
N  white  buffalo  robes  drawn  close  around  their  shoulders,  sat  to- 
' A  gether,  and  as  the  pipe  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  their  conversa- 
^^    tion  had  not  a  particle  of  the  gravity  and  reserve  usually  ascribed 

to  Indians.  I  sat  down  with  them  as  usual.  I  had  in  my  hand  half 
a  dozen  squibs  and  serpents,  which  I  had  made  one  day  when  en- 
camped upon  Laramie  Creek,  out  of  gunpowder  and  charcoal,  and 
the  leaves  of  "Fremont's  Expedition,"  rolled  round  a  stout  lead 
pencil.  I  waited  till  I  contrived  to  get  hold  of  the  large  piece  of 
burning  hois  de  vache  which  the  Indians  kept  by  them  on  the 
ground  for  lighting  their  pipes.  With  this  I  lighted  all  the  fireworks 
at  once,  and  tossed  them  whizzing  and  sputtering  into  the  air,  over 
the  heads  of  the  company.  They  all  jumped  up  and  ran  off  with 
yelps  of  astonishment  and  consternation.  After  a  moment  or  two, 
they  ventured  to  come  back  one  by  one,  and  some  of  the  boldest, 
picking  up  the  cases  of  burnt  paper  that  were  scattered  about. 
examined  them  with  eager  curiosity  to  discover  their  mysterious 
**  secret.  From  that  time  forward  I  enjoyed  great  repute  as  a  "fire- 
medicine." 

The  camp  was  filled  with  the  low  hum  of  cheerful  voices.  There 

were  other  sounds,  however,  of  a  very  different  kind,  for  from  a 

.^l       large  lodge,  lighted  up  like  a  gigantic  lantern  by  the  blazing  fire 

■*Vx  within,  came  a  chorus  of  dismal  cries  and  wailings,  long  drawn 

'     'out,  like  the  howling~oT  wolves,  and  a  woman,  almosTnaked,  was 


\ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


179 


crouchinfj  close  outside,  crying  violently,  and  gasl  'ng  her  legs  with 
a  knife  till  they  were  covered  with  blood.  Just  a  year  before,  a 
young  man  belonging  to  this  family  had  gone  out  with  a  war  party 
and  had  been  slain  by  the  enemy,  and  his  relatives  were  thus 
lamenting  his  loss.  Still  other  sounds  might  be  heard ;  loud  earnest 
cries  often  repeated  from  amid  the  gloom,  at  a  distance  beyond  the 
village.  They  proceeded  from  some  young  men  who,  being  about 
to  set  out  in  a  few  days  on  a  warlike  expedition,  were  standing 
at  the  top  of  a  hill,  calling  on  the  Great  Spirit  to  aid  them  in  their 
enterprise.  While  I  was  listening,  KouTeauj*l!Ctttr  a  laugh  on  his 
careless  face,  called  to  me  and  directed  my  attention  to  another 
quarter.  In  front  of  the  lodge  where  Weah  Washtay  lived  another 
squaw  was  standing,  angrily  scolding  an  old  yellow  dog,  who  lay 
on  the  ground  with  his  nose  resting  between  his  paws,  and  his 
eyes  turned  sleepily  up  to  her  face,  as  if  he  were  pretending  to 
give  respectful  attention,  but  resolved  to  fall  asleep  as  soon  as 
it  was  all  over.  -A 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  I"  said  the  old  woman.   ' 
"I  have  fed  you  well,  and  taken  care  of  you  ever  since  you  were 
small  and  blind,  and  could  only  crawl  about  and  squeal  a  little,  Nn^ 
instead  of  howling  as  you  do  now.  When  you  grew  old,  I  said  y 
were  a  good  dog.  You  were  strong  and  gentle  when  the  load  was 
put  on  your  back,  and  you  never  ran  among  the  feet  of  the  horses    \ 
when  we  were  all  traveling  together  over  the  prairie.  But  you  had\^ 
a  bad  heart!  Whenever  a  rabbit  jumped  out  of  the  bushes,  youV 
were  always  the  first  to  run  after  him  and  lead  away  all  the  other  ^ 
dogs  behind  you.  You  ought  to  have  known  that  it  was  very  danger- 
ous to  act  so.  When  you  had  got  far  out  on  the  prairie,  and  no 
one  was  near  to  help  you,  perhaps  a  wolf  would  jump  out  of  the 
ravine;  and  then  what  could  you  do?  You  would  certainly  have 
been  killed,  for  no  dog  can  fight  well  with  a  load  on  his  back. 
Only  three  days  ago  you  ran  off  in  that  way,  and  turned  over  the 
bag  of  wooden  pins  with  which  I  used  to  fasten  up  the  front  of 
the  lodge.  Look  up  there,  and  you  will  see  that  it  is  all  flapping 
open.  And  now  to-night  you  have  stolen  a  great  piece  of  fat  meat 
which  was  roasting  before  the  fire  for  my  children.  I  tell  you,  you 
have  a  bad  heart,  and  you  must  die !" 

So  saying,  the  squaw  went  into  the  lodge,  and  coming  out  with 
a  large  stone  mallet,  killed  the  unfortunate  dog  at  one  blow.  This 


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speech  is  worthy  of  notice  as  illustrating  a  curious  characteristic 
of  the  Indians:  the  ascribing  intelligence  and  a  power  of  under- 
standing speech  to  the  inferior  animals,  to  whom,  indeed,  accord- 
ing to  many  of  their  traditions,  they  are  linked  in  close  affinity, 
and  they  even  claim  the  honor  of  a  lineal  descent  from  bears,  wolves, 
deer,  or  tortoises. 
/^   As  it  grew  late,  and  the  crowded  population  began  to  disappear, 
1  too  walked  across  the  village  to  the  lodge  of  my  host,  Kongra- 
>>   Tonga.  As  I  entered  I  saw  him,  by  the  flickering  blaze  of  the  fire 
^:    {^n  the  center,  reclining  half  asleep  in  his  usual  place.  His  couch 
^    ^  was  by  no  means  an  uncomfortable  one.  It  consisted  of  soft  buffalo 
^     ^^Tobes  laid  together  on  the  ground,  and  a  pillow  made  of  whitened 
deerskin  stuffed  with  feathers  and  ornamented  with  beads.  At  his 

\back  was  a  light  framework  of  poles  and  slender  reeds,  against 
;  which  he  could  lean  with  ease  when  in  a  sitting  posture ;  and  at 
♦^  the  top  of  it,  just  above  his  head,  his  bow  and  quiver  were  hanging. 
His  squaw,  a  laughing,  broad-faced  woman,  apparently  had  not  yet 
^^ 'completed  her  domestic  arrangements,  for  she  was  bustling  about 
X^^  N  the  lodge,  pulling  over  the  utensils  and  the  bales  of  dried  meats 
*"  >.X   t^t  were  ranged  carefully  round  it.  Unhappily,  she  and  her  partner 
^      were  not  the  only  tenants  of  the  dwelling,  for  half  a  dozen  children 
were  scattered  about,  sleeping  in  every  imaginable  posture.  My 
t^    saddle  was  in  its  place  at  the  head  of  the  lodge  and  a  buffalo  robe 
A^  v/as  spread  on  the  ground  before  it.  Wrapping  myself  in  my  blanket 
\    I  lay  down,  but  had  I  not  been  extremely  fatigued  the  noise  in  the 
.     diext  lodge  would  have  prevented  my  sleeping.  There  was  the 
J'     monotonous  thumping  of  the  Indian  drum,  mixed  with  occasional 
^      sharp  yells,  and  a  chorus  chanted  by  twenty  voices.  A  grand  scene 
,\of  garnyiugjyas  going  forward  with  all  the  appropriate  formali- 
\'    '^ties.'T'he  players  were  staking  on  the  chance  issue  of  the  game 
\\l    their  ornaments,  their  horses,  and  as  the  excitement  rose,  their 
^      garments,  and  even  their  weapons,  for  desperate  gambling  is  not 
confined  to  the  hells  of  Paris.  The  men  of  the  plains  and  the  forests 
^      no  less  resort  to  it  as  a  violent  but  grateful  relief  to  the  tedious 
monotony  of  their  lives,  which  alternate  between  fierce  excitement 
and  listless  inaction.  I  fell  asleep  with  the  dull  notes  of  the  drum 
s;^still  sounding  on  my  ear,  but  these  furious  orgieg  lasted  without 
intermission  till  daylight.  I  was  soon  awakened  by  one  of  the 


\ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


181 


children  crawling  over  me,  while  another  larger  one  was  tugging     i/ 
at  my  blanket  and  nestling  himself  in  a  very  disagreeable  proximity. 
I  immediately  repelled  these  advances  by  punching  the  heads  of 
these  miniature  savages  with  a  short  stick  which  I  always  kept  by 
me  for  the  purpose ;  and  as  sleeping  half  the  day  and  eating  much 
more  than  is  good  for  them  makes  them  extremely  restless,  this 
operation  usually  had  to  be  repeated  four  or  five  times  in  the 
course  of  the  night.  My  host  himself  was  the  author  of  another 
most  formidable  annoyance.  All  these  Indians,  and  he  among  the 
rest,  think:  themselves  bound  to  the  constant  performance  of  cer- 
tain acts  as  the  condition  on  which  their  success  in  life  depends, 
whether  in  war,  love,  hunting,  or  any  other  employment.  These 
"medicines,*'  as  they  are  called  in  that  country,  which  are  usually 
communicated  in  dreams,  are  often  absurd  enough.  Some  Indians 
will  strike  the  butt  of  the  pipe  against  the  ground  every  time  they 
smoke;  others  will  insist  that  everything  they  say  shall  be  inter- 
preted by  contraries;  and  Shaw  once  met  an  old  man  who  con- 
ceived that  all  would  be  lost  unless  he  compelled  every  white  man 
he  met  to  drink  a  bowl  of  cold  water.  My  host  was  particularly 
unfortunate  in  his  allotment.  The  Great  Spirit  had  told  him  in  a 
dream  that  he  must^sing  a.  certain  song  in  the  middle  of  every 
night ;  and  regularly  at  about  twelve  o'clock  his  dismal  monotonous 
chanting  would  awaken  me,  and  I  would  see  him  seated  bolt  up- 
right on  his  couch,  going,  through  his  dolorous  performances  with 
a  most  business-like  air.  There  were  other  voices  of  the  night  still 
more  inharmonious.  Twice  or  thrice,  between  sunset  and  dawn, 
all  the  dogs  in  the  yilla§f©^  and  there  were  hundreds  of  them,  would 
bay  and  yelp  in  chorus;  a  most  horrible  clamor,  resembling  no 
sound  that  I  have  ever  heard,  except  perhaps  the  frightful  howling 
of  wolves  that  we  used  sometimes  to  hear  long  afterward  when 
descending  the  Arkansas  on  the  trail  of  General  Kearny's  army. 
The  canine  uproar  is,  if  possible,  more  discordant  than  that  of  the 
wolves.  Heard  at  a  distance,  slowly  rising  on  the  night,  it  has  a 
strange  unearthly  eflfect,  and  would  fearfully  haunt  the  dreams  of 
a  nervous  man ;  but  when  you  are  sleeping  in  the  midst  of  it  the 
din  is  outrageous.  One  long  loud  howl  from  the  next  lodge  per- 
haps begins  it,  and  voice  after  voice  takes  up  the  sound  till  it 
passes  around  the  whole  circumference  of  the  village,  and  the  air 


k 


r 


1         1   .    ) 


■^■.    ^ 


182 


The  Oregon  Trail 


is  filled  with  confused  and  discordant  cries,  at  once  fierce  and 
mournful.  It  lasts  but  for  a  moment  and  then  dies  away  into 
silence. 

,  Morning  came,  and  Kongra-Tonga,  mounting  his  horse,  rode 
out  with  the  hunters.  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  glance  at  him  for  an 
instant  in  his  domestic  character  of  husband  and  father.  Both  he 
and  his  squaw,  like  most  other  Indians,  were  very  fond  of  their 
children,  whom  they  indulged  to  excess,  and  never  punished,  ex- 
cept in  extreme  cases  when  they  would  throw  a  bowl  of  cold  water 
over  them.  Their  offspring  became  sufficiently  undutiful  and  dis- 
■  obedient  under  this  system  of  education,  which  tends  not  a  little  to 
foster  that  wil3"idea  of  liberty  aiulaitter.Jntolerance  of  restraint 
which  lie  at  the  very  foundation  of  the  Indian  character.  It  would 
be  hard  to  find  a  fonder  father  than  Kongra-Tonga.  There  was 
one  urchin  in  particular,  rather  less  than  two  feet  high,  to  whom 
he  was  exceedingly  attached;  and  sometimes  spreading  a  buffalo 
robe  in  the  lodge,  he  would  seat  himself  upon  it,  place  his  small 
favorite  upright  before  him,  and  chant  in  a  low  tone  some  of  the 
words  used  as  an  accompaniment  to  the  war  dance.  The  little  fel- 
low, who  could  just  manage  to  balance  himself  by  stretching  out 
both  arms,  would  lift  his  feet  and  turn  slowly  round  and  round  in 
time  to  his  father's  music,  while  my  host  would  laugh  with  delight, 
and  look  smiling  up  into  my  face  to  see  if  I  were  admiring  this 
precocious  performance  of  his  offspring.  In  his  capacity  of  husband 
he  was  somewhat  less  exemplary.  The  squaw  who  lived  in  the  lodge 
with  him  had  been  his  partner  for  many  years.  She  took  good  care 
of  his  children  and  his  household  concerns.  He  liked  her  well 
enough,  and  as  far  as  I  could  see,  they  never  quarreled ;  but  all  his 
warmer  affections  were  reserved  for  younger  and  more  recent 
favorites.  Of  these  he  had  at  present  only  one,  who  lived  in  a  lodge 
apart  from  his  ov/n.  One  day  while  in  his  camp  he  became  dis- 
pleased with  her,  pushed  her  out,  threw  after  her  her  ornaments, 
dresses,  and  everything  she  had,  and  told  her  to  go  home  to  her 
father.  Having  consummated  this  summary  divorce,  for  which  he 
could  show  good  reasons,  he  came  back,  seated  himself  in  his  usual 
place,  and  began  to  smoke  with  an  air  of  utmost  tranquillity  and 
self-satisfaction.    . 

I  was  sitting  in  the  lodge  with  him  on  that  very  afternoon,  when 
I  felt  some  curiosity  to  learn  the  history  of  the  numerous  scars 


1*!  •*. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


183 


that  appeared  on  his  naked  body.  Of  some  of  them,  however,  I 
did  not  venture  to  inquire,  for  I  already  understood  their  origin. 
Each  of  his  arms  was  marked  as  if  deeply  gashed  with  a  knife  at 
regular  intervals,  and  there  were  other  scars  also,  of  a  different 
character,  on  his  back  and  on  either  breast.  They  were  the  traces 
of  those  formidable  tortures  which  these  Indians,  in  common  with 
a  few  other  tribes,  inflict  upon  themselves  at  certain  seasons ;  in 
part,  it  may  be,  to  gain  the  glory  of  courage  and  endurance,  but 
chiefly  as  an  act  of  self-sacrifice  to  secure  the  favor  of  the  Great 
Spirit.  The  scars  upon  the  breast  and  back  were  produced  by 
running  through  the  flesh  strong  splints  of  wood,  to  which  ponder- 
ous buffalo-skulls  are  fastened  by  cords  of  hide,  and  the  wretch 
runs  forward  with  all  his  strength,  assisted  by  two  companions, 
who  take  hold  of  each  arm,  until  the  flesh  tears  apart  and  the 
heavy  loads  are  left  behind.  Others  of  Kongra-Tonga's  scars  were 
the  result  of  accidents ;  but  he  had  many  which  he  received  in  war* 
He  was  one  of  the  most  noted  warriors  in  the  village.  In  the  course 
of  his  life  he  had  slain,  as  he  boasted  to  me,  fourteen  men,  and 
though,  like  other  Indians,  he  was  a  great  braggart  and  utterly 
regardless  of  truth,  yet  in  this  statement  common  report  bore  him 
out.  Being  much  flattered  by  my  inquiries,  he  told  me  tale  after 
tale,  true  or  false,  of  his  warlike  exploits ;  and  there  was  one 
among  the  rest  illustrating  the  worst  features  of  the  Indian  char- 
acter too  well  for  me  to  omit.  Pointing  out  of  the  opening  of  the 
lodge  toward  the  Medicine-Bow  Mountain,  not  many  miles  distant, 
he  said  that  he  was  there  a  few  summers  ago  with  a  war  party  of 
his  young  men.  Here  they  found  two  Snake  Indians,  hunting.  They 
shot  one  of  them  with  arrows  and  chased  the  other  up  the  side  of 
the  mountain  till  they  surrounded  him  on  a  level  place,  and 
Kongra-Tonga  himself,  jumping  forward  among  the  trees,  seized 
him  by  the  arm.  Two  of  his  young  men  then  ran  up  and  held  him 
fast  while  he  scalped  him  alive.  They  then  built  a  great  fire,  and 
cutting  the  tendons  of  their  captive's  wrists  and  feet,  threw  him 
in,  and  held  him  down  with  long  poles  until  he  was  burnt  to  death. 
He  garnished  his  story  with  a  great  many  descriptive  particulars 
much  too  revolting  to  mention.  His  features  were  remarkably 
mild  and  open,  without  the  fierceness  of  expression  common  among 
these  Indians ;  and  as  he  detailed  these  devilish  cruelties,  he  looked 
up  into  my  face  with  the  same  air  of  earnest  simplicity  which  a 


[■  !i'{ 


;:,^!|fe^ 


y| 


184 


The  Oregon  Trail 


X 


\yS' 


■s 

-.:..'i 


little  child  would  wear  in  relating  to  its  mother  some  anecdote  of 
its  youthful  experience. 

Old  Mene-Seela's  lodge  could  offer  another  illustration  of  the 
ferocity  of  Indian  warfare.  A  bright-eyed,  active  little  boy  was 
living  there.  He  had  belonged  to  a  village  of  the  Gros-Ventre 
Black  feet,  a  small  but  bloody  and  treacherous  band,  in  close  al- 
liance with  the  Arapahoes.  About  a  year  before,  Kongra-Tonga 
and  a  party  of  warriors  had  found  about  twenty  lodges  of  these 
Indians  upon  the  plains  a  little  to  the  eastward  of  our  present 
camp;  and  surrounding  them  in  the  night,  they  butchered  men, 
women,  and  children  without  mercy,  preserving  only  this  little 
boy  alive.  He  was  adopted  into  the  old  man's  family,  and  was 
now  fast  becoming  identified  with  the  Ogallalla  children,  among 
whom  he  mingled  on  equal  terms.  There  was  also  a  Crow  warrior 
in  the  village,  a  man  of  gigantic  stature  and  most  symmetrical 
proportions.  Having  been  taken  prisoner  many  years  before  and 
adopted  by  a  squaw  in  place  of  a  son  whom  she  had  lost,  he  had 
forgotten  his  old  national  antipathies,  and  were  now  both  in  act 
and  inclination  an  Ogallalla. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  scheme  of  the  grand  warlike 
combination  against  the  Snake  and  Crow  Indians  originated  in 
this  village;  and  though  this  plan  had  fallen  to  the  ground,  the 
embers  of  the  martial  ardor  continued  to  glow  brightly.  Eleven 
young  men  had  prepared  themselves  to  go  out  against  the  enemy. 
The  fourth  day  of  our  stay  in  this  camp  was  fixed  upon  for  their 
departure.  At  the  head  of  this  party  was  a  well-built  active  little 
Indian,  called  the  White  Shield,  whom  I  had  always  noticed  for 
the  great  neatness  of  his  dress  and  appearance.  His  lodge  too, 
though  not  a  large  one,  was  the  best  in  the  village,  his  squaw  was 
one  of  the  prettiest  girls,  and  altogether  his  dwelling  presented  a 
complete  model  of  an  Ogallalla  domestic  establishment.  I  was  often 
a  visitor  there,  for  the  White  Shield  being  rather  partial  to  white 
men,  used  to  invite  me  to  continual  feasts  at  all  hours  of  the  day. 
Once  when  the  substantial  part  of  the  entertainment  was  con- 
cluded, and  he  and  I  were  seated  cross-legged  on  a  buffalo  robe 
smoking  together  very  amicably,  he  took  down  his  warlike  equip- 
ments, which  were  hanging  around  the  lodge,  and  displayed  them 
with  great  pride  and  self-importance.  Among  the  rest  was  a  most 
superb  headdress  of  feathers.  Taking  this  from  its  case,  he  put  it 


y 


The  Oregon  Trail 


185 


on  and  stood  before  me,  as  if  conscious  of  the  gallant  air  which 
it  gave  to  his  dark  face  and  his  vigorous,  graceful  figure.  He  told 
me  that  upon  it  were  the  feathers  of  three  war-eagles,  equal  in 
value  to  the  same  number  of  good  horses.  lie  took  up  also  a  shield 
crayly  painted  and  hung  with  feathers.  The  effect  of  thesr  barbaric 
ornaments  was  admirable,  for  they  were  arranged  with  no  little 
skill  and  taste.  His  quiver  was  made  of  the  spotted  skin  of  a  small 
panther,  such  as  are  common  among  the  Black  Hills,  from  which 
the  tail  and  distended  claws  were  still  allowed  to  hang.  The  White 
Shield  concluded  his  entertainment  in  a  manner  characteristic  of 
an  Indian.  He  begged  of  me  a  little  powder  and  ball,  for  he  had  a 
gun  as  well  as  bow  and  arrows ;  but  this  I  was  obliged  to  refuse, 
because  I  had  scarcely  enough  for  my  own  use.  Making  him,  how- 
ever, a  parting  present  of  a  paper  of  vermilion,  I  left  him  apparently 
quite  contented. 

Unhappily  on  the  next  morning  the  White  Shield  took  cold  and 
was  attacked  with  a  v:iolent  inflammation  of  the  throat.  Immediately 
he  seemed  to  lose  all  spirit,  and  though  before  no  warrior  in  the 
village  had  borne  himself  more  proudly,  he  now  moped  about  from 
lodge  to  lodge  with  a  forlorn  and  dejected  air.  At  length  he  came 
and  sat  down,  close  wrapped  in  his  robe,  before  the  lodge  of  Reynal, 
but  when  he  found  that  neither  he  nor  I  knew  how  to  relieve  him, 
he  arose  and  stalked  over  to  one  of  the  medicine-men  of  the  vil- 
lage. This  old  imposter  thumped  him  for  some  time  with  both 
fists,  howled  and  yelped  over  him,  and  beat  a  drum  close  to  his 
ear  to  expel  the  evil  spirit  that  had  taken  possession  of  him.  This 
vigorous  treatment  failing  of  the  desired  effect,  the  White  Shield 
withdrew  to  his  own  lodge,  where  he  lay  disconsolate  for  some 
hours.  Making  his  appearance  once  more  in  the  afternoon,  he 
again  took  his  seat  on  the  ground  before  Reynal's  lodge,  holding 
his  throat  with  his  hand.  For  some  time  he  sat  perfectly  silent  with 
his  eyes  fixed  mournfully  on  the  ground.  At  last  he  began  to 
speak  in  a  low  tone: 

"I  am  a  brave  man,"  he  said;  "all  the  young  men  think  me  a 
great  warrior,  and  ten  of  them  are  ready  to  go  with  me  to  the 
war.  I  will  go  and  show  them  the  enemy.  Last  summer  the  Snakes 
killed  my  brother.  I  cannot  live  unless  I  revenge  his  death.  To- 
morrow we  will  set  out  and  I  will  take  their  scalps." 

The  White  Shield,  as  he  expressed  this  resolution,  seemed  to 


(Nil 


186 


TuK  Oregon  Trail 


have  l(\st  all  the  accustomed  lire  and  spirit  of  his  look,  and  huiiff 
his  head  as  if  in  a  lU  of  des])()tideiicy. 

As  1  was  sittin^^  that  eveiiini;  at  one  of  the  fires,  I  saw  him  ar- 
rayed in  his  spl(>ndid  war  dress,  his  cheeks  painted  with  vermilion, 
leading;  his  favorite  war  horse  to  the  front  of  his  lod^e.  He 
mounted  and  rode  round  the  villa,i;e,  sinj^inj;  his  war  sonj;  in  a 
hnul  hoarse  voice  amid  the  shrill  acclamations  of  the  women.  Tlicn 
dismountinj,'^.  he  remained  for  some  minutes  prostrate  u|)on  tlio 
promid,  as  if  in  an  act  of  supplication.  On  the  following  mornitij,' 
I  looked  in  vain  for  the  dei)arture  of  the  warriors.  All  was  (juirt 
in  the  villaj;e  until  late  in  the  forenoon,  when  the  White  Shield. 
issuin.c^  from  his  lodg^e.  came  and  seated  himself  in  his  old  jilacc 
hefore  us.  Reynal  asked  him  why  he  had  not  gone  out  to  find  the 
enemy. 

"I  cannot  go."  answered  the  White  Shield  in  a  dejected  voice. 
"I  have  given  my  war  arrows  to  the  Meneaska." 

"You  have  only  given  him  two  of  your  arrows,"  said  Reynal, 
"If  you  ask  him,  he  will  give  them  hack  again." 

For  some  time  the  White  Shield  said  nothing.  At  last  he  spoke 
in  a  gloomy  tone : 

"One  of  my  young  men  has  had  bad  dreams.  The  spirits  of  the 
dead  came  and  threw  stones  at  him  in  his  sleep." 

If  such  a  dream  had  actually  taken  place  it  might  have  broken 
up  this  or  any  other  war  party,  but  both  Reynal  and  I  were  con- 
vinced at  the  time  that  it  was  a  mere  fabrication  to  excuse  his 
.    remaining  at  home. 

The  White  Shield  was  a  warrior  of  noted  prowess.  Very  prob- 
ably, he  would  hr.ve  received  a  mortal  wound  without  a  show  of 
pain,  and  endured  without  flinching  the  worst  tortures  that  an 
enemy  could  inflict  upon  him.  The  whole  power  of  an  Indian's 
nature  would  be  summoned  to  encjunter  such  a  trial ;  every  in- 
fluence of  his  education  from  childhood  would  have  prepared  him 
for  it :  the  cause  of  his  suffering  would  have  been  visibly  and  palp- 
ably before  him,  and  his  spirit  would  rise  to  set  his  enemy  at  de- 
fiance, and  gain  the  highest  glory  of  a  warrior  by  meeting  death 
,  with  fortitude.  But  when  he  feels  himself  attacked  by  a  mysterious 
;,.^ril,  before  whose  insidious- assaults  his  manhood  is  wasted,  and 
his  strength  drained  away,  when  he  can  see  no  enemy  to  resist  and 
defy,  the  boldest  warrior  falls  prostrate  at  once.  He  believes  that 


The  Oregon  Trail 


187 


a  had  spirit  has  taken  possession  of  him,  or  that  he  is  the  victim 
of  some  charm.  When  sufTeriti^'  from  a  protracted  disorder,  an 
Indian  will  often  abandon  himself  to  his  supposed  destiny,  pine 
away  and  die,  the  victim  of  his  own  imagination.  The  same  effect 
will  often  follow  from  a  series  of  calamities,  or  a  lon^  run  of  ill 
success,  and  the  sufTerer  has  heei.  known  to  ride  intr)  the  midst  of 
an  enemy's  camp,  or  attack  a  j^rizzly-hear  single-handed,  to  get 
rid  of  a  life  which  lie  supposed  to  lie  under  the  doom  of  misfortune. 
Thus  after  all  his  fasting,  dreaming,  and  calling  u\K)n  the  Great 
Si)irit,  the  White  Shield's  war  party  was  pitifully  broken  up. 


\-  ^  I 


Chapter  XVI 
THE  TRAPPERS 

In  speaking  of  the  Indians,  I  have  almost  forgotten  two  bold 
adventures  of  another  race,  the  trappers  Rouleau  and  Saraphin. 
These  men  were  bent  on  a  most  hazardous  enterprise.  A  day's 
journey  to  the  westward  was  the  country  over  which  the  Arapahoes 
are  accustomed  to  range,  and  for  which  the  two  trappers  were  on 
the  point  of  setting  out.  These  Arapahoes,  of  whom  Shaw  and  I 
afterward  fell  in  with  a  large  village,  are  ferocious  barbarians,  of 
a  most  brutal  and  wolfish  aspect,  and  of  late  they  had  declared 
themselves  enemies  to  the  whites,  and  threatened  death  to  the  first 
who  should  venture  within  their  territory.  The  occasion  of  the 
declaration  was  as  follows : 

In  the  previous  spring,  1845,  Colonel  Kearny  left  Fort  Leaven- 
worth with  several  companies  of  dragoons,  and  marching  with 
extraordinary  celerity  reached  Fort  Laramie,  whence  he  passed 
along  the  foot  of  the  mountains  to  Bent's  Fort  and  then,  turning 
eastward  again,  returned  to  the  point  from  whence  he  set  out. 
While  at  Fort  Laramie,  he  sent  a  part  of  his  command  as  far 
westward  as  Sweetwater,  while  he  himself  remained  at  the  fort, 
and  dispatched  messages  to  the  surrounding  Indians  to  meet  him 
there  in  council.  Then  for  the  first  time  the  tribes  of  that  vicinity 
saw  the  white  warriors,  and,  as  might  have  been  expected,  they 
were  lost  in  astonishment  at  their  regular  order,  their  gay  attire. 


a . .  m 


E;'ii  li 


188 


The  Oregon  Trail 


the  completeness  of  their  martial  equipment,  and  the  great  size 
and  power  of  their  horses.  Among  the  rest,  the  Arapahoes  came 
in  considerable  numbers  to  the  fort.  They  had  lately  committed 
numerous  acts  of  outrage,  and  Colonel  Kearny  threatened  that  if 
they  killed  any  more  white  men  he  would  turn  loose  his  dragoons 
upon  them,  and  annihilate  their  whole  nation.  In  the  evening,  to 
add  effect  to  his  speech,  he  ordered  a  howitzer  to  be  fired  and  a 
rocket  to  be  thrown  up.  Many  of  the  Arapahoes  fell  prostrate  on 
the  ground,  while  others  ran  screaming  with  amazement  and  terror. 
On  the  following  day  they  withdrew  to  their  mountains,  con- 
founded with  awe  at  the  appearance  of  the  dragoons,  at  their  big 
gun  which  went  off  twice  at  one  shot,  and  the  fiery  messenger 
which  they  had  sent  up  to  the  Great  Spirit.  For  many  months  they 
remained  quiet,  and  did  no  further  mischief.  At  length,  just  before 
we  came  into  the  country,  one  of  them,  by  an  act  of  the  basest 
treachery,  killed  two  white  men.  Boot  and  May,  who  were  trapping 
among  the  mountains.  For  this  act  it  was  impossible  to  discover 
a  motive.  It  seemed  to  spring  from  one  of  those  inexplicable  im- 
pulses which  often  actuate  Indians  and  appear  no  better  than  the 
mere  outbreaks  of  native  ferocity.  No  sooner  was  the  murder  com- 
mitted than  the  whole  tribe  were  in  extreme  consternation.  They 
expected  every  day  that  the  avenging  dragoons  would  arrive,  little 
thinking  that  a  desert  of  nine  hundred  miles  in  extent  lay  between 
the  latter  and  their  mountain  fastnesses.  A  large  deputation  of 
them  came  to  Fort  Laramie,  bringing  a  valuable  present  of  horses, 
in  compensation  for  the  lives  of  the  murdered  men.  These  Bor- 
deaux refused  to  accept.  They  then  asked  him  if  he  would  be 
satisfied  with  their  delivering  up  the  murderer  himself;  but  he 
declined  this  offer  also.  The  Arapahoes  went  back  more  terrified 
than  ever.  Weeks  passed  away,  and  still  no  dragoons  appeared.  A 
result  followed  which  all  those  best  acquainted  with  Indians  had 
predicted.  They  conceived  that  fear  had  prevented  Bordeaux  from 
accepting  their  gifts,  and  that  they  had  nothing  to  apprehend  from 
the  vengeance  of  the  whites.  From  terror  they  rose  to  the  height 
of  insolence  and  presumption.  They  called  the  white  men  cowards 
and  old  women ;  and  a  friendly  Dakota  came  to  Fort  Laramie  and 
reported  that  they  were  determined  to  kill  the  first  of  the  white 
dogs  whom  they  could  lay  hands  on. 

Had  a  military  officer,  intrusted  with  suitable  powers,  been  sta- 


The  Oregon  Trail 


189 


;  great  size 
tahoes  came 
'  committed 
ened  that  if 
lis  dragoons 
evening,  to 
fired  and  a 
prostrate  on 
t  and  terror, 
.ntains,  con- 
at  their  big 
y  messenger 
months  they 
1,  just  before 
)f  the  basest 
^ere  trapping 
;  to  discover 
xplicable  im- 
tter  than  the 
murder  com- 
nation.  They 
arrive,  little 
lay  between 
eputation  of 
tnt  of  horses, 
These  Bor- 
e  would  be 
[self;  but  he 
ore  terrified 
appeared.  A 
Indians  had 
deaux  from 
rehend  from 
;o  the  height 
en  cowards 
ramie  and 
f  the  white 

Irs,  been  sta- 


tioned at  Fort  Laramie,  and  having  accepted  the  oflfer  of  the 
Arapahoes  to  deliver  up  the  murderer,  had  ordered  him  to  be  im- 
mediately led  out  and  shot,  in  presence  of  his  tribe,  they  would 
have  been  awed  into  tranquillity,  and  much  danger  and  calamity 
averted ;  but  now  the  neighborhood  of  the  Medicine-Bow  Moun- 
tain and  the  region  beyond  it  was  a  scene  of  extreme  peril.  Old 
Mene-Seela,  a  true  friend  of  the  whites,  and  many  other  of  the 
Indians  gathered  about  the  two  trappers,  and  vainly  endeavored 
to  turn  them  from  their  purpose;  but  Rouleau  and  Saraphin 
only  laughed  at  the  danger.  On  the  morning  preceding  that  on 
which  they  were  to  leave  the  camp,  wc  could  all  discern  faint 
white  columns  of  smoke  rising  against  the  dark  base  of  the  Medi- 
cine-Bow. Scouts  were  out  immediately,  and  reported  that  these 
proceeded  from  an  Arapahoe  camp,  abandoned  only  a  few  hours 
before.  Still  the  two  trappers  continued  their  preparations  for 
departure. 

Saraphin  was  a  tall,  powerful  fellow,  with  a  sullen  and  sinister 
countenance.  His  rifle  had  very  probably  drawn  other  blood  than 
that  of  buffalo  or  even  Indians.  Rouleau  had  a  broad  ruddy  face 
marked  with  as  few  traces  of  thought  or  care  as  a  child's.  His 
figure  was  remarkably  square  and  strong,  but  the  first  joints  of 
both  his  feet  were  frozen  off,  and  his  horse  had  lately  thrown  and 
trampled  upon  him,  by  which  he  had  been  severely  injured  in  the 
chest.  But  nothing  could  check  his  inveterate  propensity  for  laugh- 
ter and  gayety.  He  went  all  day  rolling  about  the  camp  on  his 
stumps  of  feet,  talking  and  singing  and  frolicking  with  the  Indian 
women,  as  they  were  engaged  at  their  work.  In  fact  Rouleau  had 
an  unlucky  partiality  for  squaws.  He  always  had  one  whom  he 
must  needs  bedizen  with  beads,  ribbons,  and  all  the  finery  of  an 
Indian  wardrobe ;  and  though  he  was  of  course  obliged  to  leave 
her  behind  him  during  his  expeditions,  yet  this  hazardous  necessity 
did  not  at  all  trouble  him,  for  his  disposition  was  the  very  reverse 
of  jealous.  If  at  any  time  he  had  not  lavished  the  whole  of  the 
precarious  profits  of  his  vocation  upon  his  dark  favorite,  he  always 
devoted  the  rest  to  feasting  his  comrades.  If  liquor  was  not  to  be 
had — and  this  was  usually  the  case — strong  coffee  was  substituted. 
As  the  men  of  that  region  are  by  ro  means  remarkable  for  provi- 
dence or  self-restraint,  whatever  was  set  before  them  on  these 
occasions,  however  extravagant  in  price,  or  enormous  in  quantity, 


II,. 


,! ' 


i*^f  It" ! 


t' 


1 


}     i 


II.    ^ 


I 


1«X) 


TiiK  (  )r|'.(;()n  Tumi, 


was  surr  to  lu'  tlis|>osr«|  of  at  otu*  sittiiif;.  Like  otlu  r  Iranprrs,  Kmi 
loati's  lifr  was  our  nl  ronhast  ami  variety.  It  was  niily  at  icttiiui 
seasons,  atui  fi>r  a  limitccl  time,  that  lie  was  ahscnl  nti  his  cxim"!! 
lions,  h'or  the  rest  ni"  tho  year  ho  would  he  Icuin^in^  ahont  tin- 
fort,  or  cMU'ani|>o«l  with  his  frionds  in  its  viiinity,  la/ily  hunting  m 
ctijoyin^  all  the  luxury  of  inaction;  hiit  when  onrr  in  pursuit  nl 
hcavor,  ho  was  itivolvod  in  oxtronu"  privations  and  dosporato  perils. 
Whon  in  tho  midst  of  his  j;anio  and  his  <Mionnos,  hand  and  font. 
eye  and  car,  aro  incossantly  aotivo.  l'"ro«|uontly  ho  nnist  oontci.t 
hinisolf  with  dovotnin^j  his  ovoninj;  nioal  unoookod,  lost  tho  li^iil 
of  his  tiro  should  attraot  tho  oyos  of  sotno  wandering  Indian;  aiKJ 
sonictinios  havinij  niado  his  rudo  repast,  ho  must  loavo  his  lire 
still  hlazin^,  and  withdraw  to  a  distance  under  cover  of  the  dark- 
ness, that  his  «li.sapp(nnted  enemy,  drawn  thither  hy  tho  li^jht,  may 
tind  his  victim  j;»mu\  and  he  unahle  to  trace  his  footsteps  in  the 
jjloom.  This  is  the  life  led  hy  scores  of  men  in  the  Kocky  Moun- 
tains and  their  vicinity.  1  «)nce  met  a  trapper  whose  hreast  was 
marked  with  the  scars  of  six  hullots  and  arrows,  one  of  his  arms 
hroken  hy  a  shot  and  one  of  his  knees  shattered  ;  yet  still,  with  the 
undaunted  mettle  of  New  Mn^land,  from  which  part  of  the  coun- 
try he  had  come,  he  continued  to  follow  his  perilous  occupation. 
To  some  of  the  children  of  cities  it  may  seem  stranj^^e  that  men 
with  no  ohject  in  view  should  contiime  to  follow  a  life  of  such 
hardship  and  desperate  adventure :  yet  there  is  a  mysterious,  rest- 
^j^  less  charm  in  the  hasilisk  eye  of  danger,  and  few  men  perhaps 
remain  long  in  that  wild  region  without  learning  to  love  peril  for 
its  own  sake,  and  to  laugh  carelessly  in  the  face  of  death. 

On  the  last  day  of  our  stay  in  this  camp,  the  trappers  were 
ready  for  departure.  When  in  the  Black  Hills  they  had  caught 
seven  beaver,  and  they  now  left  their  skins  in  charge  of  Reynal, 
to  be  kept  until  their  return.  Their  strong,  gaunt  horses  were 
equipped  with  rusty  Spanish  bits  and  rude  Mexican  saddles,  to 
w'hich  wooden  stirrups  were  attached,  while  a  buffalo  robe  was 
rolled  up  behind  them,  and  a  bundle  of  beaver  traps  slung  at  the 
pommel.  These,  together  with  their  rifles,  their  knives,  their  pow- 
der-horns and  bullet-pouches,  flint  and  steel  and  a  tincup,  com- 
posed their  whole  traveling  equipment.  They  shook  hands  with 
us  and  rode  away ;  Saraphin  with  his  grim  countenance,  like  a 
surly  bulldog's,  was  in  advance;  but  Rouleau,  clambering  gayly 


M  m- 


TiiK  Ori'con  Tkau, 


vn 


into  his  scat,  ki('l«'(|  Ins  Ixirsr's  sides,  llnurislird  his  wlii|»  in  the  .lir, 
;)inl  trotted  hi  iskly  (»ver  the  pr.iirie,  trolhn^^  forth  a  (  ';ma'lia!i  sotj^^' 
It  the  top  of  his  hiti^s.  keyiial  looked  after  them  witli  his  face  of 
iinital    sehishnesM. 

"VV"I1,"  he  said,  "if  they  are  kille«l.  I  shall  have  the  heaver. 
They'll  fetch  ine  lifty  dollars  at  the  fort,  anyhow." 

This  was  the  last    I  saw  of  them. 

We  had  heen  for  live  d.ays  in  tin*  hntitin^  eainji,  and  the  meat, 
which  all  this  tifiie  had  hnn^'  <lryiii^  in  the  sim,  was  now  fit  for 
transportation.  Ihilfalo  hides  also  had  heen  procnr<<l  in  stiflitient 
(|nantitics  for  making  the  next  season's  lod^'cs  ;  hnt  it  remaified  to 
pr(»vide  the  lonj;  slender  poles  on  which  they  were  to  he  sn|)ported. 
These  were  only  to  he  had  anion^  the  tall  pine  woods  of  the  P.lack 
Hills,  and  in  that  direction  ther<'fore  onr  next  move  was  to  he 
tnade.  It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  amid  the  j^eneral  ahtmdance 
which  during  this  time  had  prevailed  iti  the  camp  there  were  no 
instances  of  individual  privation;  for  althon^h  the  hide  and  tlie 
tonj^ue  of  tlu!  hufValo  helon^^  hy  exclusive  rij^ht  to  the  Inmter  who 
has  killed  it,  yet  anyone  else  is  e(|ually  entitled  to  help  himself 
from  the  rest  of  the  carcass.  Thus,  the  weak,  the  aj^M-d,  atid  even 
the  in(k)lent  come  in  for  a  share  of  the  spoils,  and  maiiy  a  helpless 
old  woman,  who  would  otherwise  perish  fnjm  starvation,  is  sus' 
tained  in  profu.se  ahundance. 

On  the  25th  of  July,  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  camp  hroke  up, 
with  the  usual  tumult  and  confusion,  and  we  were  all  movinj^  oncf 
more,  on  horsehack  and  on  foot,  over  the  plains.  We  advanced, 
however,  hut  a  few  miles.  The  old  men,  who  during  the  whole 
march  had  heen  stoutly  striding  along  on  foot  in  front  of  the 
people,  now  seated  themselves  in  a  circle  on  the  ground,  while  all 
the  families,  erecting  their  lodges  in  the  jjrescrihed  order  around 
them,  formed  the  usual  great  circle  of  the  camp;  meanwhile  these 
village  patriarchs  .sat  smoking  and  talking.  I  threw  my  hridle  to 
Raymond,  and  sat  down  as  usual  along  with  them.  There  was  none 
of  that  reserve  and  a])parent  dignity  which  an  Indian  always  as- 
sumes when  in  council,  or  in  the  presence  of  white  men  whom  he 
distrusts.  The  party,  on  the  contrary,  was  an  extremely  merry  one, 
and  as  in  a  social  circle  of  a  quite  different  character,  "if  there 
was  not  much  wit,  there  was  at  least  a  great  deal  of  laughter." 

When  the  first  pipe  was  smoked  out^  I  rosp  and  withdrew  to 


o 


I 


ou^  I  rose 


f  .• 


<    ,1; 


192 


The  Oregon  Trail 


m 


iiflKi 


the  lodge  of  my  host.  Here  I  was  stooping,  in  the  act  of  taking  off 
my  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch,  when  suddenly,  and  close  at 
hand,  pealing  loud  and  shrill,  and  in  right  good  earnest,  came  the 
terrific  yell  of  the  war-whoop.  Kongra-Tonga's  squaw  snatched  up 

\S\  her  youngest  child,  and  ran  out  o^  the  lodge.  I  followed,  and  found 
\  the  whole  village  in  confusion,  resounding  with  cries  and  yells. 
yVj^he  circle  of  old  men  in  the  center  had  vanished.  The  warriors 

,t.^     with  glittering  eyes  came  darting,  their  weapons  in  their  hands, 
out  of  the  low  opening  of  the  lodges,  and  running  with  wild  yells 

N  toward  the  farther  end  of  the  village.  Advancing  a  few  rods  in  that 
i  direction,  I  saw  a  crowd  in  furious  agitation,  while  others  ran  up 
on  every  side  to  add  to  the  confusion.  Just  then  I  distinguished  the 
voices  of  Raymond  and  Reynal,  shouting  to  me  from  a  distance, 
and  looking  back,  I  saw  the  latter  with  his  rifle  in  his  hand,  stand- 
ing on  the  farther  bank  of  a  little  stream  that  ran  along  the  out- 
skirts of  the  camp.  He  was  calling  to  Raymond  and  myself  to  come 
over  and  join  him,  and  Raymond,  with  his  usual  deliberate  gait 
and  stolid  countenance,  was  already  moving  in  that  direction. 

This  was  clearly  the  wisest  course,  unless  we  wished  to  involve 
ourselves  in  the  fray;  so  I  turned  to  go,  but  just  then  a  pair  of 
eyes,  gleaming  like  a  snake's,  and  an  aged  familiar  countenance  was 
thrust  from  the  opening  of  a  neighboring  lodge,  and  out  bolted  old 
Mene-Seela,  full  of  fight,  clutching  his  bow  and  arrows  in  one 
hand  and  his  knife  in  the  other.  At  that  instant  he  tripped  and  fell 
sprawling  on  his  face,  while  his  weapons  flew  scattering  away  in 
every  direction.  The  women  with  loud  screams  were  hurrying  with 
their  children  in  their  arms  to  place  them  out  of  danger,  and  I 
observed  some  hastening  to  prevent  mischief,  by  carrying  away  all 
the  weapons  they  could  lay  hands  on.  On  a  rising  ground  close  to 
the  camp  stood  a  line  of  old  women  singing  a  medicine  song  to 
allay  the  tumult.  As  I  approached  the  side  of  the  brook  I  heard 
gun-shots  behind  me,  and  turning  back,  I  saw  that  the  crowd  had 
separated  into  two  lines  of  naked  warriors  confronting  each  other 
at  a  respectful  distance,  and  yelling  and  jumping  about  to  dodge 
the  shot  of  their  adversaries,  while  they  discharged  bullets  and 
arrows  against  each  other.  At  the  same  time  certain  sharp,  hum- 
ming sounds  in  the  air  over  my  head,  like  the  flight  of  beetles  on 
a  summer  evening,  warned  me  that  the  danger  was  not  wholly 
confined  to  the  immediate  scene  of  the  fray.  So  wading  through 


i: 


The  Oregon  Trail 


193 


the  brook,  I  joined  Reynal  and  Raymond,  and  we  sat  down  on  the 
grass,  in  the  posture  of  an  armed  neutrality,  to  watch  the  result. 

Happily  it  may  be  for  ourselves,  though  quite  contrary  to  our 
expectation,  the  disturbance  was  quelled  almost  as  soon  as  it  had 
commenced.  When  I  looked  again,  the  combatants  were  once  more 
mingled  together  in  a  mass.  Though  yells  sounded,  occasionally 
from  the  throng,  the  firing  had  entirely  ceased,  and  I  observed 
five  or  six  persons  moving  busily  about,  as  if  acting  the  part  of 
peacemakers.  One  of  the  village  heralds  or  criers  proclaimed  in  a 
loud  voice  something  which  my  two  companions  were  too  much 
engrossed  in  their  own  observations  to  translate  for  me.  The  crowd 
began  to  disperse,  though  many  a  deep-set  black  eye  still  glittered 
with  an  unnatural  luster,  as  the  warriors  slowly  withdrew  to  their 
lodges.  This  fortunate  suppression  of  the  disturbance  was  owing 
to  a  few  of  the  old  men,  less  pugnacious  than  Mene-Seela,  who 
boldly  ran  in  between  the  combatants  and  aided  by  some  of  the 
"soldiers,"  or  Indian  police,  succeeded  in  effecting  their  object. 

It  seemed  very  strange  to  me  that  although  many  arrows  and 
bullets  were  discharged,  no  one  was  mortally  hurt,  and  I  could 
only  account  for  this  by  the  fact  that  both  the  marksman  and  the 
object  of  his  aim  were  leaping  about  incessantly  during  the  whole 
time.  By  far  the  greater  part  of  the  villagers  had  joined  in  the  fray, 
for  although  there  were  not  more  than  a  dozen  guns  in  the  whole 
camp,  I  heard  at  least  eight  or  ten  shots  fired. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  all  was  comparatively  quiet.  A  large 
circle  of  warriors  were  again  seated  in  the  center  of  the  village,  but 
this  time  I  did  not  venture  to  join  them,  because  I  could  see  that 
the  pipe,  contrary  to  the  usual  order,  was  passing  from  the  left 
hand  to^He"  right  around  the  circle,  a  sure  sign  that  a  "medicine- 
smoke"  of  reconciliation  was  going  forward,  and  that  a  white  man 
would  be  an  unwelcome  intruder.  When  I  again  entered  the  still 
agitated  camp  it  was  nearly  dark,  and  mournful  cries,  howls  and 
wailings  resounded  from  many  female  voices.  Whether  these  had 
any  connection  with  the  late  disturbance,  or  where  merely  lamenta- 
tions for  relatives  slain  in  some  former  war  expeditions,  I  could 
not  distinctly  ascertain. 

To  inquire  too  closely  into  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  was  by  no 
means  prudent,  and  it  was  not  until  some  time  after  that  I  dis- 
covered what  had  given  rise  to  it.  Among  the  Dakota  there  are 


V 


'^ 


%M  I 


I 


ih  U  \ 


|:S:  .-■. 


>     fj 


.1;^ 


I 


\r 


M  ■ 


J 


\ 


.V 


194 


J« 


■\// 


A 


TiiK  Orf.con  Thai  I, 


i-. 


^ 


many  associations,  or  fraternities,  conncclcd  with  the  purposes  of 
their  superstitions,  their  warfare,  or  their  social  hfe.  There  was 
one  called  "The  Arnnv-Hreakers,"  now  in  a  ^reat  measure  dis- 
handed  and  dispersed.  In  the  villaj^e  there  were,  however,  fottt 
men  helon.i::in^  to  it.  distin,t;uished  hy  the  peculiar  arrangement  ul 
their  hair,  which  rose  in  a  hi^h  hristlin^  mass  ahove  their  fore 
heads,  adding  i^reatly  to  their  api>arent  heii;ht,  and  jL^ivin^  tlietn  ;i 
mcyst  ferocious  appearance.  The  principal  amonj^  them  was  the 
Mad  Wolf,  a  warrior  of  remarkahle  si/e  and  stren,i;th,  ^reat  coin- 
age, and  the  tu  iceiiess  of  a  dem«Mi.  I  had  always  looked  upon  him 
as  the  n\os\  dani^erous  man  in  the  villaj^e;  and  though  he  often 
invited  me  to  feasts,  I  never  enterc<l  his  lodge  unarmed.  The  M.ul 
Wolf  had  taken  a  fancy  to  a  fine  horse  helonging  to  another  In- 
dian, who  was  called  the  I'all  Hear;  atid  anxious  to  get  the  animal 
into  his  ]>ossession.  he  made  the  owner  a  present  of  another  horse 
nearly  cijual  in  value.  According  to  the  customs  of  the  Dakota, 
the  acceptance  of  this  gift  involved  a  sort  of  ohligation  to  make 
an  equitahle  return ;  and  the  Tall  Hear  well  understood  that  tlio 
other  had  in  view  the  obtaining  of  his  favorite  hufTalo  horse.  lie 
however  acceoted  the  ]>resent  without  a  word  of  thanks,  and  hav- 
ing picketed  the  horse  before  his  lodge,  he  sulVercd  day  after  day 
to  pass  witlunit  making  the  expected  return.  The  Mad  W'olf  grew 
impatient  and  angry ;  and  at  last,  seeing  that  his  bounty  was  not 
likely  to  produce  the  desired  return,  he  resolved  to  reclaim  it.  So 
this  evening,  as  soon  as  the  village  was  encamped,  he  went  to  the 
lodge  of  the  Tall  Hear,  seized  upon  the  horse  that  he  had  given 
him.  and  led  him  away.  At  this  the  Tall  Hear  broke  into  one  of 
those  tits  of  sullen  rage  not  uncommon  among  the  Indians.  Ho 
ran  up  to  the  unfortunate  horse,  and  gave  him  three  mortal  stabs 
with  his  knife.  Quick  as  lightning  the  Mad  Wolf  drew  his  bow  to 
its  utmost  tension,  and  held  the  arrow  quivering  close  to  the  breast 
of  his  adversary.  The  Tall  Bear,  as  the  Indians  who  were  near 
him  said,  stood  with  his  bloody  knife  in  his  hand,  facing  the  as- 
sailant with  the  utmost  calmness.  Some  of  his  friends  and  relatives, 
seeing  his  danger,  ran  hastily  to  his  assistance.  The  remaining  three 
Arrow-Breakers,  on  the  other  hand,  came  to  the  aid  of  their  as- 
sociate. Many  of  their  friends  joined  them,  the  war-cry  was  raised 
on  a  sudden,  and  the  tumult  became  general. 

The  "soldiers,"  who  ^^.nt  their  timely  aid  in  putting  it  down, 


V 


/I 


TiiK  ORKdoN  Tram, 


195 


arc  by  far  the  innst  important  cxcciitivr  fiinctionarirs  ifi  an  Itulian 
village.  'VUc  ofTu'c  is  one  of  coiisidrrahlr  honor,  hein^  confided 
only  to  men  of  cotira^c  and  repnte.  'I  hey  derive  their  anthority 
fntni  the  old  men  and  chief  warriors  of  the  village,  who  elect  them 
in  councils  occasionally  convened  for  the  pinpose,  and  thus  can 
exercise  a  dej^ree  of  anthority  which  no  «»ne  else  in  the  village 
wottld  dare  to  assume.  While  very  few  (  'j^allalla  cliiefs  coul<l  ven- 
\\\vv  withotit  instant  jeopardy  of  their  lives  to  strike  or  lay  hands 
tipon  the  meanest  (jf  their  people,  the  "soldiers"  in  the  discharge 
of  their  appropriate  functions,  have  full  license  to  make  use  of 
these  and  similar  acts  of  coercion. 


Chai'TKr  XVII 
Tllh:  HLACK  HILLS 


We  TRAVFr,Ei)  eastward  for  two  days,  and  then  the  gloomy  rid^'cs 
of  the  Black  Hills  rose  up  before  us.  The  village  passed  along  for 
some  miles  heneath  their  declivities,  trailing  out  to  a  great  length 
over  the  arid  prairie,  or  winding  at  times  among  small  detached 
hills  or  distorted  shapes.  Turning  sharply  to  the  left,  we  entered 
a  wide  dehlc  of  the  mountains,  down  the  bottom  of  which  a  brook 
came  winding,  lined  with  tall  gr.ass  and  dense  copses,  amid  which 
were  hidden  many  beaver  dams  and  lodges.  We  passed  along  be- 
tween two  lines  of  high  precipices  and  rocks,  piled  in  utter  disorder 
one  upon  another,  and  with  scarcely  a  tree,  a  bush,  or  a  clump  of 
grass  to  veil  their  nakedness.  The  restless  Indian  boys  were  wander- 
ing along  their  edges  and  clambering  up  and  down  their  rugged 
sides,  and  sometimes  a  group  of  them  would  stand  on  the  verge 
of  a  cliif  and  look  down  on  the  array  as  it  passed  in  review  beneath 
them.  As  we  advanced,  the  passage  grew  more  narrow ;  then  it 
suddenly  expanded  into  a  round  grassy  meadow,  completely  en- 
compassed by  mountains ;  and  here  the  families  stopped  as  they 
came  up  in  turn,  and  the  camp  rose  like  magic. 

The  lodges  were  hardly  erected  when,  with  their  usual  precipita- 
tion, the  Indians  set  about  accomplishing  the  object  that  had 
brought  them  there;  that  is,  the  obtaining  poles  for  supporting 


I 


IM 


i  'I. 


4 

X' 

-    \ 


.1  'S 


u 


f    I 


196 


The  Oregon  Trail 


their  new  lodges.  Half  the  population,  men,  women  and  boys, 
mounted  their  horses  and  set  out  for  the  interior  of  the  mountains. 
As  they  rode  at  full  gallop  over  the  shingly  rocks  and  into  the 
dark  opening  of  the  defile  beyond,  I  thought  I  had  never  read  or 
dreamed  of  a  more  strange  or  picturesque  cavalcade.  We  passed 
between  precipices  more  than  a  thousand  feet  high,  sharp  and 
splintering  at  the  tops,  their  sides  beetling  over  the  defile  or  de- 
scending in  abrupt  declivities,  bristling  with  black  fir  trees.  On 
our  left  they  rose  close  to  us  like  a  wall,  but  on  the  right  a  winding 
brook  with  a  narrow  strip  of  marshy  soil  intervened.  The  stream 
was  clogged  with  old  beaver  dams,  and  spread  frequently  into 
wide  pools.  There  were  thick  bushes  and  many  dead  and  blasted 
trees  along  its  course,  though  frequently  nothing  remained  but 
stumps  cut  close  to  the  ground  by  the  beaver,  and  marked  with 
the  sharp  chisel-like  teeth  of  those  indefatigable  laborers.  Some- 
times we  were  diving  among  trees,  and  then  emergitig  upon  open 
spots,  over  which,  Indian-like,  all  galloped  at  full  speed.  As  Pauline 
bounded  over  the  rocks  I  felt  her  saddle-girth  slipping,  and  alighted 
to  draw  it  tighter;  when  the  whole  array  swept  past  me  in  a  mo- 
ment, the  women  with  their  gaudy  ornaments  tinkling  as  they  rode, 
the  men  whooping,  and  laughing,  and  lashing  forward  their  horses. 
Two  black-tailed  deer  bounded  away  among  the  rocks ;  Raymond 
shot  at  them  from  horseback;  the  sharp  report  of  his  rifle  was 
answered  by  another  equally  sharp  from  the  opposing  cliffs,  and 
then  the  echoes,  leaping  in  rapid  succession  from  side  to  side,  died 
away  rattling  far  amid  the  mountains. 

After  having  ridden  in  this  manner  for  six  or  eight  miles,  the 
appearance  of  the  scene  began  to  change,  and  all  the  declivities 
around  us  were  covered  with  forests  of  tall,  slender  pine  trees. 
The  Indians  began  to  fall  off  to  the  right  and  left,  and  dispersed 
with  their  hatchets  and  knives  among  these  woods,  to  cut  the  poles 
which  they  had  come  to  seek.  Soon  I  was  left  almost  alone;  but 
in  the  deep  stillness  of  those  lonely  mountains,  the  stroke  of 
hatchets  and  the  sound  of  voices  might  be  heard  from  far  and  near. 

Reynal,  who  imitated  the  Indians  in  their  habits  as  well  as  the 
worst  features  of  their  character,  had  killed  buffalo  enough  to 
make  a  lodge  for  himself  and  his  squaw,  and  now  he  was  eager  to 
get  the  poles  necessary  to  complete  it.  He  asked  me  to  let  Raymond 
go  with  him  and  assist  in  the  work.  I  assented,  and  the  two  men 


The  Oregon  Trail 


197 


ind  boys, 
lountains. 
1  into  the 
;r  read  or 
Ve  passed 
sharp  and 
file  or  de- 
trees.  On 
a  winding 
rhe  stream 
jently  into 
ind  blasted 
nained  but 
arked  with 
•ers.  Some- 
upon  open 
As  Pauline 
ind  alighted 
ne  in  a  mo- 
s  they  rode, 
leir  horses. 
;  Raymond 
is  rifle  was 
cliffs,  and 
;o  side,  died 


immediately  entered  the  thickest  part  of  the  wood.  Having  left 
my  horse  in  Raymond's  keeping,  I  began  to  climb  the  mountain. 
I  was  weak  and  weary  and  made  slow  progress,  often  pausing 
to  rest,  but  after  an  hour  had  elapsed,  I  gained  a  height,  whence 
the  little  valley  out  of  which  I  had  climbed  seemed  like  a  deepv^ 
dark  gulf,  though  the  inaccessible  peak  of  the  mountain  was  still 
towering  to  a  much  greater  distance  above.  Objects  familiar  from 
childhood  surrounded  me;  crags  and  rocks,  a  black  and  sullen 
brook  that  gurgled  with  a  hollow  voice  deep  among  the  crevices, 
a  wood  of  mossy  distorted  trees  and  prostrate  trunks  flung  down 
by  age  and  storms,  scattered  among  the  rocks,  or  damming  the 
foaming  waters  of  the  little  brook.  The  objects  were  the  same, 
yet  they  were  thrown  into  a  wilder  and  more  startling  scene,  for 
the  black  crags  and  the  savage  trees  assumed  a  grim  and  threaten- 
ing aspect,  and  close  across  the  valley  the  opposing  mountain  con- 
fronted me,  rising  from  the  gulf  for  thousands  of  feet,  with  its  " 
bare  pinnacles  and  its  ragged  covering  of  pines.  Yet  the  scene  was 
not  without  its  milder  features.  As  I  ascended,  I  found  frequent 
little  grassy  terraces,  and  there  was  one  of  these  close  at  hand, 
across  which  the  brook  was  stealing,  beneath  the  shade  of  scattered 
trees  that  seemed  artificially  planted.  Here  I  made  a  welcome  dis- 
covery, no  other  than  a  bed  of  strawberries,  with  their  white 
flowers  and  their  red  fruit,  close  nestled  among  the  grass  by  the 
side  of  the  brook,  and  I  sat  down  by  them,  hailing  them  as  old 
acquaintances;  for  among  those  lonely  and  perilous  mountains 
they  awakened  delicious  associations  of  the  gardens  and  peaceful 
homes  of  far-distant  New  England. 

Yet  wild  as  they  were,  these  mountains  were  thickly  peopled. 
As  I  climbed  farther,  I  found  the  broad  dusty  paths  made  by  the 
elk,  as  they  filed  across  the  mountainside.  The  grass  on  all  the 
terraces  was  trampled  down  by  deer ;  there  were  numerous  tracks 
of  wolves,  and  in  some  of  the  rougher  and  more  precipitous  parts 
of  the  ascent,  I  found  foot-prints  different  from  any  that  I  had 
ever  seen,  and  which  I  took  to  be  those  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
sheep.  I  sat  down  upon  a  rock;  there  was  a  perfect  stillness.  No 
wind  was  stirring,  and  not  even  an  insect  could  be  heard.  I  recol- 
lected the  danger  of  becoming  lost  in  such  a  place,  and  therefore 
I  fixed  my  eye  upon  one  of  the  tallest  pinnacles  of  the  opposite 
mountain.  It  rose  sheer  upright  from  the  woods  below,  and  by  an 


s 


^ 

'ji 

^ 


Nifsii 


N  H  'I 


i]^' 


198 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I'i 


extraordinary  freak  of  nature  sustained  aloft  on  its  very  summit  a 
large  loose  rock.  Such  a  landmark  could  never  be  mistaken,  and 
feeling  once  more  secure,  I  began  again  to  move  forward.  A  white 
wolf  jumped  up  from  among  some  bushes,  and  leaped  clumsily 
away ;  but  he  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  turned  back  his  keen  eye 
and  his  grim  bristling  muzzle.  I  longed  to  take  his  scalp  and  carry 
it  back  with  me,  as  an  appropriate  trophy  of  the  Black  Hills,  but 
before  I  could  fire,  he  was  gone  among  the  rocks.  Soon  I  heard  a 
rustling  sound,  with  a  cracking  of  twigs  at  a  little  distance,  and 
saw  moving  above  the  tall  bushes  the  branching  antlers  of  an  elk. 
I  was  in  the  midst  of  a  hunter's  paradise. 

Such  are  the  Black  Hills,  as  I  found  them  in  July;  but  they 
wear  a  different  garb  when  winter  sets  in.  when  the  broad  boughs 
of  the  fir  tree  are  bent  to  the  ground  by  the  load  of  snow,  and  the 
dark  mountains  are  whitened  with  it.  At  that  season  the  mountain- 
trappers,  returned  from  their  autumn  expeditions,  often  build  their 
rude  cabins  in  the  midst  of  these  solitudes,  and  live  in  abundance 
and  luxury  on  the  game  that  harbors  there.  I  have  heard  them 
relate,  how  with  their  tawny  mistresses,  and  perhaps  a  few  young 
Indian  companions,  they  have  spent  months  in  total  seclusion.  They 
would  dig  pitfalls,  and  set  traps  for  the  white  wolves,  the  sables, 
and  the  martens,  and  though  through  the  whole  night  the  awful 
chorus  of  the  wolves  would  resound  from  the  frozen  mountains 
around  them,  yet  within  their  massive  walls  of  logs  they  would 
lie  in  careless  ease  and  comfort  before  the  blazing  fire,  and  in  the 
morning  shoot  the  elk  and  the  deer  from  their  very  door. 


Chapter  XVHI 
A  MOUNTAIN  HUNT 


The  camp  was  full  of  the  newly-cut  lodge-poles;  some,  already 
prepared,  were  stacked  together,  white  and  glistening,  to  dry  and 
harden  in  the  sun ;  others  were  lying  on  the  ground,  and  the  squaws, 
the  boys,  and  even  some  of  the  warriors  were  busily  at  work  peel- 
ing off  the  bark  and  paring  them  with  their  knives  to  the  proper 
dimensions.  Most  of  the  hides  obtained  at  the  last  camp  were 


The  Oregon  Trail 


199 


dressed  and  scraped  thin  enough  for  use,  and  many  of  the  squaws 
Were  engaged  in  fitting  them  together  and  sewing  them  with  sinews, 
to  form  the  coverings  for  the  lodges.  Men  were  wandering  among 
the  bushes  that  lined  the  brook  along  the  margin  of  the  camp, 
cutting  sticks  of  red  willow,  or  shongsasha,  the  bark  of  which, 
mixed  with  tobacco,  they  use  for  smoking.  Reynal's  squaw  was 
hard  at  work  with  her  awl  and  buffalo  sinews  upon  her  lodge, 
while  her  proprietor,  having  just  finished  an  enormous  breakfast 
of  meat,  was  smoking  a  social  pipe  along  with  Raymond  and  my- 
self. He  proposed  at  length  that  we  should  go  out  on  a  hunt.  "Go 
to  the  Big  Crow's  lodge,"  said  he,  "and  get  your  rifle.  I'll  bet  the 
gray  Wyandotte  pony  against  your  mare  that  we  start  an  elk  or 
a  black-tailed  deer,  or  likely  as  not,  a  bighorn,  before  we  are  two 
miles  out  of  camp.  I'll  take  my  squaw's  old  yellow  horse ;  you  can't 
whip  her  more  than  four  miles  an  hour,  but  she  is  as  good  for  the 
mountains  as  a  mule." 

I  mounted  the  black  mule  which  Raymond  usually  rode.  She 
was  a  very  fine  and  powerful  animal,  gentle  and  manageable  enough 
by  nature ;  but  of  late  her  temper  had  been  soured  by  misfortune. 
About  a  week  before  I  had  chanced  to  offend  some  one  of  the 
Indians,  who  out  of  revenge  went  secretly  into  the  meadow  and 
gave  her  a  severe  stab  in  the  haunch  with  his  knife.  The  wound, 
though  partially  healed,  still  galled  her  extremely,  and  made  her 
even  more  perverse  and  obstinate  than  the  rest  of  her  species. 

The  morning  was  a  glorious  one,  and  I  was  in  better  health 
than  I  had  been  at  any  time  for  the  last  two  months.  Though  a 
strong  frame  and  well  compacted  sinews  had  borne  me  through 
hitherto,  it  was  long  since  I  had  been  in  a  condition  to  feel  the 
exhilaration  of  the  fresh  mountain  wind  and  the  gay  sunshine 
that  brightened  the  crags  and  trees.  We  left  the  little  valley  and 
ascended  a  rocky  hollow  in  the  mountain.  Very  soon  we  were  out 
of  sight  of  the  camp,  and  of  every  living  thing,  man,  beast,  bird, 
or  insect.  I  had  never  before,  except  on  foot,  passed  over  such 
execrable  ground,  and  I  desire  never  to  repeat  the  experiment.  The  1/ 
black  mule  grew  indignant,  and  even  the  redoubtable  yellow  horse 
stumbled  every  moment,  and  kept  groaning  to  himself  as  he  cut 
his  feet  and  legs  among  the  sharp  rocks. 

It  was  a  scene  of  silence  and  desolation.  Little  was  visible  except 
beetling  crags  and  the  bare  shingly  sides  of  the  mountains,  re- 


_.iL  U* 


200 


The  Oregon  Trail 


■'  ■)' 


'aliviJ^ 


WV 


'^^ 


lieved  by  scarcely  a  trace  of  vegetation.  At  length,  however,  we 
came  upon  a  forest  tract,  and  had  no  sooner  done  so  than  we 
heartily  wished  ourselves  back  among  the  rocks  again;  for  we 
were  on  a  steep  descent,  among  trees  so  thick  that  we  could  see 
scarcely  a  rod  in  any  direction. 

If  one  is  anxious  to  place  himself  in  a  situation  where  the  hazard- 
ous and  the  ludicrous  are  combined  in  about  equal  proportions, 
let  him  get  upon  a  vicious  mule,  witha  snaffle  bit,  and  try  to  drive 
her  through  the  woods  down  a  slope  of  45°.  Let  him  have  on  a 
long  rifle,  a  buckskin  frock  with  long  fringes,  and  a  head  of  long 
hair.  These  latter  appendages  will  be  caught  every  moment  and 
twitched  away  in  small  portions  by  the  twigs,  which  will  also 
whip  him  smartly  across  the  face,  while  the  large  branches  above 
thump  him  on  the  head.  His  mule,  if  she  be  a  true  one,  will  alter' 
nately  stop  short  and  dive  violently  forward,  and  his  position  upon 
her  back  will  be  somewhat  diversified  and  extraordinary.  At  one 
time  he  will  clasp  her  affectionately,  to  avoid  the  blow  of  a  bough 
overhead ;  at  another,  he  will  throw  himself  back  and  fling  his 
knee  forward  against  the  side  of  her  neck,  to  keep  it  from  being 
crushed  between  the  rough  bark  of  a  tree  and  the  equally  unyielding 
ribs  of  the  animal  herself.  Reynal  was  cursing  incessantly  during 
the  whole  way  down.  Neither  of  us  had  the  remotest  idea  where  we 
were  going;  and  though  I  have  seen  rough  riding,  I  shall  always 
retain  an  evil  recollection  of  that  five  minutes'  scramble. 

At  last  we  left  our  troubles  behind  us,  emerging  into  the  chan- 
nel of  a  brook  that  circled  along  the  foot  of  the  descent ;  and  here, 
turning  joyfully  to  the  left,  we  rode  in  luxury  and  ease  over  the 
white  pebbles  and  the  rippling  water,  shaded  from  the  glaring  sun 
by  an  overarching  green  transparency.  These  halcyon  moments 
were  of  short  duration.  The  friendly  brook,  turntng  sharply  to  one 
side,  went  brawling  and  foaming  down  the  rocky  hill  into  an 
abyss,  which,  as  far  as  we  could  discern,  had  no  bottom ;  so  once 
more  we  betook  ourselves  to  the  detested  woods.  When  next  we 
came  forth  from  their  dancing  shadow  and  sunlight,  we  found  our- 
selves standing  in  the  broad  glare  of  day,  on  a  high  jutting  point 
of  the  mountain.  Before  us  stretched  a  long,  wide,  desert  valley, 
winding  away  far  amid  the  mountains.  No  civilized  eye  but  mine 
had  ever  looked  upon  that  virgin  waste.  Reynal  was  gazing  in- 
tently; he  began  to  speak  at  last: 


The  Oregon  Trail 


201 


"Many  a  time,  when  I  was  with  the  Indians,  I  have  been  hunt* 
ing  for  gold  all  through  the  Black  Hills.  There's  plenty  of  it  here ; 
you  may  be  certain  of  that.  I  have  dreamed  about  it  fifty  times, 
and  I  never  dreamed  yet  but  what  it  came  true.  Look  over  yonder 
at  those  black  rocks  piled  up  against  that  other  big  rock.  Don't  it 
look  as  if  there  might  be  something  there?  It  won't  do  for  a  white 
man  to  be  rummaging  too  much  about  these  mountains;  the  In- 
dians say  they  are  full  of  bad  spirits;  and  I  believe  myself  that 
it's  no  good  luck  to  be  hunting  about  here  after  gold.  Well,  for 
all  that,  I  would  like  to  have  one  of  these  fellows  up  here,  from 
down  below,  to  go  about  with  his  witch-hazel  rod,  and  I'll  guarantee 
that  it  would  not  be  long  be i ore  he  would  light  on  a  gold  mine. 
Never  mind;  we'll  let  the  gold  alone  for  to-day.  Look  at  those 
trees  down  below  us  in  the  hollow;  we'll  go  down  there,  and  I 
reckon  we'll  get  a  black-tailed  deer." 

But  Reynal  s  predictions  were  not  verified.  We  passed  mountain 
after  mountain,  and  valley  after  valley ;  we  explored  deep  ravines ; 
yet  still  to  my  companion's  vexation  and  evident  surprise,  no  game 
could  be  found.  So,  in  the  absence  of  better,  we  resolved  to  go  out 
on  the  plains  and  look  for  an  antelope.  With  this  view  we  began 
to  pass  down  a  narrow  valley,  the  bottom  of  which  was  covered 
with  the  stiff  wild-sage  bushes  and  marked  with  deep  paths,  made 
by  the  buffalo,  who,  for  some_inexplicabl£,reason,  are  accustomed 
to  penetrate,  in  their  long  grave  processions,  deep  among  the 
gorges  of  these  sterile  mountains. 

Reynal's  eye  was  ranging  incessantly  among  the  rocks  and  along 
the  edges  of  the  black  precipices,  in  hopes  of  discovering  the 
mountain  sheep  peering  down  upon  us  in  fancied  security  from 
that  giddy  elevation.  Nothing  was  visible  for  some  time.  At  length 
we  both  detected  something  in  motion  near  the  foot  of  one  of  the 
mountains,  and  in  a  moment  afterward  a  black-tailed  deer,  with 
his  spreading  antlers,  stood  gazing  at  us  from  the  top  of  a  rock, 
and  then,  slowly  turning  away,  disappeared  behind  it.  In  an  in- 
stant Reynal  was  out  of  his  saddle,  and  running  toward  the  spot. 
I,  being  too  weak  to  follow,  sat  holding  his  Lorse  and  waiting  the 
result.  I  lost  sight  of  him,  then  heard  the  report  of  his  rifle,  dead- 
ened among  the  rocks,  and  finally  saw  him  reappear,  with  a  surly 
look  that  plainly  betrayed  his  ill  success.  Again  we  moved  forward 
down  the  long  valley,  when  soon  after  we  came  full  upon  what 


202 


The  Oregon  Trail 


■f    :;Tr 


iiJ''  i  .fv 


.m 


.:}?1P  "-^l 


\ 


X 


seemed  a  wide  and  very  shallow  ditch,  incrusted  at  the  bottom  with 
white  clay,  dried  and  cracked  in  the  sun.  Under  this  fair  outside, 
Reynal's  eye  detected  the  signs  of  lurking  mischief.  He  called  me 
to  stop,  and  then  alighting",  picked  up  a  stone  and  threw  it  into 
the  ditch.  To  my  utter  amazement  it  fell  with  a  dull  splash,  break- 
ing at  once  through  the  thin  crust,  and  spattering  round  the  hole 
a  yellowish  creamy  fluid,  into  which  it  sank  and  disappeared.  A 
stick,  live  or  six  feet  long  lay  on  the  ground,  and  with  this  we 
sounded  the  insidious  al)vss  close  to  its  edge.  It  was  just  possible 
to  touch  the  bottom.  Places  like  this  are  numerous  among  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  The  buffalo,  in  his  blind  and  heedless  walk, 
often  plunges  into  them  unawares.  Down  he  sinks;  one  snort  of 
terror,  one  convulsive  struggle,  and  the  slime  calmly  flows  above 
his  shaggy  head,  the  languid  undulations  of  its  sleek  and  placid 
surface  alone  betraying  how  the  powerful  monster  writhes  in  his 
death-throes  below. 

We  found  after  some  trouble  a  point  where  we  could  pass  the 
abyss,  and  now  the  valley  began  to  open  upon  the  plains  which 
spread  to  the  horizon  before  us.  On  one  of  their  distant  swells  we 
discerned  three  or  four  black  specks,  which  Reynal  pronounced  to 
be  buffalo. 

"Come,"  said  he,  "we  must  get  one  of  them.  My  squaw  wants 
more  sinews  to  finish  her  lodge  with,  and  I  want  some  glue  myself." 

He  immediately  put  the  yellow  horse  at  such  a  gallop  as  he  was 
capable  of  executing,  while  I  set  spurs  to  the  mule,  who  soon  far 
outran  her  plebeian  rival.  When  we  had  galloped  a  mile  or  more,  a 
large  rabbit,  by  ill  luck,  sprang  up  just  under  the  feet  of  the  mule, 
who  bounded  violently  aside  in  full  career.  Weakened  as  I  was, 
I  was  flung  forcibly  to  the  ground,  and  my  rifle,  falling  close  to 
my  head,  went  off  with  the  shock.  Its  sharp  spiteful  report  rang 
for  some  moments  in  my  ear.  Being  slightly  stunned,  I  lay  for  an 
instant  motionless,  and  Reynal,  supposing  me  to  be  shot,  rode  up 
and  began  to  curse  the  mule.  Soon  recovering  myself,  I  rose, 
picked  up  the  rifle  and  anxiously  examined  it.  It  was  badly  in- 
jured. The  stock  was  cracked,  and  the  main  screw  broken,  so  that 
the  lock  had  to  be  tied  in  its  place  with  a  string ;  yet  happily  it  was 
not  rendered  totally  unserviceable.  I  wiped  it  out,  reloaded  it,  and 
handing  it  to  Reynal,  who  meanwhile  had  caught  the  mule  and 
led  her  up  to  me,  I  mounted  again.  No  sooner  had  I  done  so,  than 


The  Oregon  Trail 


203 


V 


the  brute  began  to  rear  and  plunge  with  extreme  violence ;  but 
being  now  well  prepared  for  her,  and  free  from  incumbrance.  I 
soon  reduced  her  to  submission.  Then  taking  t!ie  rifle  again  from 
Reynal,  we  galloped  forward  as  before. 

We  were  now  free  of  the  mountain  and  riding  far  out  on  the 
broad  prairie.  The  buffalo  were  still  some  two  miles  in  advance  of 
us.  When  wc  came  near  them,  we  stopped  where  a  gentle  swell  of 
the  plain  concealed  us  from  their  view,  and  while  I  held  his  horse 
Reynal  ran  forward  with  his  rifle,  till  I  lost  sight  of  him  beyond 
the  rising  ground.  A  few  minutes  elapsed ;  I  heard  the  report  of 
his  piece,  and  saw  the  buffalo  running  away  at  full  speed  on  the 
ri!j:ht,  and  immediately  after,  the  hunter  himself  unsuccessful  as 
before,  came  up  and  mounted  his  horse  in  excessive  ill-humor.  He 
cursed  the  Black  Hills  and  the  buffalo,  swore  that  he  was  a  good 
hunter,  which  indeed  was  true,  and  that  he  had  never  been  out 
before  among  those  mountains  without  killing  two  or  three  deer 
at  least. 

We  now  turned  toward  the  distant  encampment.  As  we  rode 
along,  antelope  in  considerable  numbers  were  flying  lightly  in  all 
directions  over  the  plain,  but  not  one  of  them  would  stand  and  be 
shot  at.  When  we  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ridge  that  lay 
between  us  and  the  village,  we  were  too  impatient  to  take  the 
smooth  and  circuitous  route ;  so  turning  short  to  the  left,  we  drove 
our  wearied  animals  directly  upward  among  the  rocks.  Still  more 
antelope  were  leaping  about  among  these  flinty  hillsides.  Each  of 
us  shot  at  one,  though  from  a  great  distance,  and  each  missed  his 
mark.  At  length  we  reached  the  summit  of  the  last  ridge.  Looking 
down,  we  saw  the  bustling  camp  in  the  valley  at  our  feet,  and  in- 
gloriously  descended  to  it.  As  we  rode  among  the  lodges,  the  In- 
dians looked  in  vain  for  the  fresh  meat  that  should  have  hung 
behind  our  saddles,  and  the  squaws  uttered  various  suppressed 
ejaculations,  to  the  great  indignation  of  Reynal.  Our  trinj-tiflratjnn  v 
was  increased  when  we  rode  up  to  his  lodge.  Here  we  saw  his 
young  Indian  relative,  the  Hail-Storm,  his  light  graceful  figure  on 
the  ground  in  an  easy  attitude,  while  with  his  friend  the  Rabbit, 
who  sat  by  his  side,  he  was  making  an  abundant  meal  from  a 
wooden  bowl  of  wasna,  which  the  squaw  had  placed  between  them. 
Near  him  lay  the  fresh  skin  of  a  female  elk,  which  he  had  just 
killed  among  the  mountains,  only  a  mile  or  two  from  the  camp.  No 


204 


Thk  Oregon  Trail 


«::>•:,.: 


doubt  the  boy's  heart  was  elated  with  triumph,  but  he  betrayed  no 
sign  of  it.  He  even  seemed  totally  unconscious  of  our  approach, 
and  his  handsome  face  had  all  the  tranquillity  of  Indian  self- 
control  ;  a  self-control  which  prevents  the  exhibition  of  emotion. 
without  restraining  the  emotion  itself.  It  was  about  two  months 
since  I  had  known  the  Hail-Storm,  and  within  that  time  his  char- 
acter had  remarkably  developed.  When  I  first  saw  him,  he  was 
just  emerging  from  the  habits  and  feelings  of  the  boy  into  the  am- 
bition of  the  hunter  and  warrior.  He  had  lately  killed  his  first  deer, 
and  this  had  excited  his  aspirations  after  distinction.  Since  that 
time  he  had  been  continually  in  search  of  game,  and  no  young 
hunter  in  the  village  had  been  so  active  or  so  fortunate  as  he.  It 
will  perhaps  be  remembered  how  fearlessly  he  attacked  the  buffalo 
bull,  as  we  were  moving  toward  our  camp  at  the  Medicine-Bow 
Mountain.  All  this  success  had  produced  a  marked  change  in  his 
character.  As  I  first  remembered  him  he  always  shunned  the  so- 
ciety of  the  young  squaws,  and  was  extremely  bashful  and  sheepish 
in  their  presence ;  but  now,  in  the  confidence  of  his  own  reputation, 
he  began  to  assume  the  airs  and  the  arts  of  a  man  of  gallantry.  He 
wore  his  red  blanket  dashingly  over  his  left  shoulder,  painted  his 
cheeks  every  day  with  vermilion,  and  hung  pendants  of  shells  in 
his  ears.  If  I  observed  aright,  he  met  with  very  good  success  in  his 
new  pursuits ;  still  the  Hail-Storm  had  much  to  accomplish  before 
he  attained  the  full  standing  of  a  warrior.  Gallantly  as  he  began  to 
bear  himself  among  the  women  and  girls,  he  still  was  timid  and 
abashed  in  the  presence  of  the  chiefs  and  old  men ;  for  he  had  never 
yet  killed  a  man,  or  stricken  the  dead  body  of  an  enemy  in  battle. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  the  handsome  smooth-faced  boy  burned  with 
keen  desire  to  flash  his  maiden  scalping-knife,  and  I  would  not  have 
encamped  alone  with  him  v/ithout  watching  his  movements  with  a 
distrustful  eye. 

His  elder  brother,  the  Horse,  was  of  a  different  character.  He 
was  nothing  but  a  lazy  dandy.  He  knew  very  well  how  to  hunt,  but 
preferred  to  live  by  the  hunting  of  others.  He  had  no  appetite  for 
distinction,  and  the  Hail-Storm,  though  a  few  years  younger  than 
he,  already  surpassed  him  in  reputation.  He  had  a  dark  and  ugly 
face,  and  he  passed  a  great  part  of  his  time  in  adorning  it  with 
vermilion,  and  contemplating  it  by  means  of  a  little  pocket  looking- 
glass  which  I  gave  him.  As  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  he  divided  it 


The  Oregon  Trail 


205 


betweea  eating  and  sleeping,  and  sitting  in  the  sun  on  the  outside 
of  a  lodge.  Here  he  would  remain  for  hour  after  hour,  arrayed  in 
all  his  finery,  with  an  old  dragoon's  sword  in  his  hand,  and  evi- 
dently flattering  himself  that  he  was  the  center  of  attraction  to  the 
eyes  of  the  surrounding  squaws.  Yet  he  sat  looking  straight  for- 
ward with  a  face  of  the  utmost  gravity,  as  if  wrapped  in  profound 
meditation,  and  it  was  only  by  the  occasional  sidelong  glances 
which  he  shot  at  his  supposed  admirers  that  one  could  detect  the 
true  course  of  his  thoughts. 

lioth  he  and  his  brother  may  represent  a  class  in  the  Indian  com- 
munity; neither  should  the  Hail-Storm's  friend,  the  Rabbit,  be 
passed  by  without  notice.  The  Hail-Storm  and  he  were  inseparable  ; 
they  ate,  slept,  and  hunted  together,  and  shared  with  one  another 
almost  all  that  they  possessed.  If  there  be  anything  that  deserves 
to  be  called  romantic  in  the  Indian  character,  it  is  to  be  sought  for 
in  friendships  such  as  this,  which  are  quite  common  among  many 
of  the  prairie  tribes. 

Slowly,  hour  after  hour,  that  weary  afternoon  dragged  away.  I 
lay  in  Reynal's  lodge,  overcome  by  the  listless  torpor  that  pervaded 
the  whole  encampment.  The  day's  work  was  finished,  or  if  it  were 
not,  the  inhabitants  had  resolved  not  to  finish  it  at  all,  and  all  were 
dozing  quietly  within  the  shelter  of  the  lodges.  A  profound  lethargy, 
the  very  spirit  of  indolence,  seemed  to  have  sunk  upon  the  village. 
Now  and  then  I  could  hear  the  low  laughter  of  some  girl  from 
within  a  neighboring  lodge,  or  the  small  shrill  voices  of  a  few  rest- 
less children,  who  alone  were  moving  in  the  deserted  area.  The 
spirit  of  the  place  infected  me;  I  could  not  even  think  consecu- 
tively ;  I  was  fit  only  for  musing  and  reverie,  when  at  last,  like  the 
rest,  I  fell  asleep. 

When  evening  came  and  the  fires  were  lighted  round  the  lodges, 
a  select  family  circle  convened  in  the  neighborhood  of  Reynal's 
domicile.  It  was  composed  entirely  of  his  squaw's  relatives,  a  mean 
and  ignoble  clan,  among  whom  none  but  the  Hail-Storm  held  forth 
any  promise  of  future  distinction.  Even  his  protests  were  rendered 
not  a  little  dubious  by  the  character  of  the  family,  less  however 
from  any  principle  of  aristocratic  distinction  than  from  the  want  of 
powerful  supporters  to  assist  him  in  his  undertakings,  and  help  to 
avenge  his  quarrels.  Raymond  and  I  sat  down  along  with  them. 
There  were  eight  or  ten  men  gathered  around  the  fire,  together  with 


206 


The  Oregon  Trail 


m 


about  as  many  women,  old  and  young,  some  of  whom  were  toler- 
ably good-looking.  As  the  pipe  passed  round  among  the  men,  a 
lively  conversation  went  forward,  more  merry  than  delicate,  and  at 
length  two  or  three  of  the  elder  women  (for  the  girls  were  some- 
what diffident  and  bashful)  began  to  assail  Raymond  with  various 
pungent  witticisms.  Some  of  the  men  took  part,  and  an  old  squaw 
concluded  by  bestowing  on  him  a  ludicrous  nickname,  at  which  a 
^general  laugh  followed  at  his  expense.  Raymond  grinned  and  gig- 
'^'  gled,  and  made  several  futile  attempts  at  repartee.  Knowing  the  im- 
policy and  even  danger  of  suffering  myself  to  be  placed  in  a  ludi- 
crous light  among  the  Indians,  I  maintained  a  rigid  inflexibTe 
countenance,  and  wholly  escaped  their  sallies. 

In  the  morning  I  found,  to  my  great  disgust,  that  the  camp  was 
to  retain  its  position  for  another  day.  I  dreaded  its  languor  and 
monotony,  and  to  escape  it,  I  set  out  to  explore  the  surrounding 
mountains.  I  was  accompanied  by  a  faithful  friend,  my  rifle,  the 
only  friend  indeed  on  whose  prompt  assistance  in  time  of  trouble  I 
could  implicitly  rely.  Most  of  the  Indians  in  the  village,  it  is  true, 
professed  good-will  toward  the  whites,  but  the  experience  of  others 
and  my  own  observation  had  taught  me  the  extreme  folly  of  confi- 
dence, and  the  utter  impossibility  of  foreseeing  to  what  sudden  acts 
the  strange  unbridled  impulses  of  an  Indian  may  urge  him.  When 
among  this  people  danger  is  never  so  near  as  when  you  are  unpre- 
pared for  it,  never  so  remote  as  when  you  are  armed  and  on  the 
alert  to  meet  it  any  moment.  Nothing  offers  so  strong  a  temptation 
to  their  ferocious  instincts  as  the  appearance  of  timidity,  weakness, 
or  security. 

Many  deep  and  gloomy  gorges,  choked  with  trees  and  bushes, 
opened  from  the  sides  of  the  hills,  which  were  shaggy  with  forests 
wherever  the  rocks  permitted  vegetation  to  spring.  A  great  number 
of  Indians  were  stalking  along  the  edges  of  the  woods,  and  boys 
were  whooping  and  laughing  on  the  mountain-sides,  practicing  eye 
and  hand,  and  indulging  their  destructive  propensities  by  following 
birds  and  small  animals  and  killing  them  with  their  little  bows  and 
arrows.  There  was  one  glen,  stretching  up  between  steep  cliffs  far 
into  the  bosom  of  the  mountain.  I  began  to  ascend  along  its  bottom, 
pushing  my  way  onward  among  the  rocks,  trees,  and  bushes  that 
obstructed  it.  A  slender  thread  of  water  trickled  along  its  center, 
which  since  issuing  from  the  heart  of  its  native  rock  could  scarcely 


The  Oregon  Trail 


207 


have  been  warmed  or  gladdened  by  a  ray  of  sunshine.  After  ad- 
vancing for  some  time,  1  conceived  myself  to  be  entirely  alone ;  but 
coming  to  a  part  of  the  glen  in  a  great  measure  free  of  trees  and 
undergrowth,  I  saw  at  some  distance  the  black  head  and  red  shoul- 
ders of  an  Indian  among  the  bushes  above.  The  reader  need  not 
prepare  himself  for  a  startling  adventure,  for  I  have  none  to  relate. 
The  head  and  shoulders  belonged  to  Mene-Seela,  my  best  friend  in 
the  village.  As  I  had  approached  noiselessly  with  my  moccasined 
feet,  the  old  man  was  quite  unconscious  of  my  presence ;  and  turn- 
ing to  a  point  where  I  could  gain  an  unobstructed  view  of  him,  I 
saw  him  seated  alone,  immovable  as  a  statue,  among  the  rocks  and 
trees.  His  face  was  turned  upward,  and  his  eyes  seemed  riveted  on  a 
pine  tree  springing  from  a  cleft  in  the  precipice  above.  The  crest  of 
the  pine  was  swaying  to  and  fro  in  the  wind,  and  its  long  limbs 
waved  slowly  up  and  down,  as  if  the  tree  had  life.  Looking  for  a 
while  at  the  old  man,  I  was  satisfied  that  he  was  engaged  in  act  of 
worship  or  prayer,  or  communion  of  some  kind  with  a  supernatural 
being.  I  longed  to  penetrate  his  thoughts,  but  I  could  do  nothing 
more  than  conjecture  and  speculate.  I  knew  that  though  the  intel- 
lect of  an  Indian  can  embrace  the  idea  of  an  all-wise,  all-powerful 
Spirit,  the  supreme  Ruler  of  the  universe,  yet  his  mind  will  not 
always  ascend  into  communion  with  a  being  that  seems  to  him  so 
vast,  remote,  and  incomprehensible;  and  when  danger  threatens, 
when  his  hopes  are  broken,  when  the  black  wing  of  sorrow  over- 
shadows him,  he  is  prone  to  turn  for  relief  to  some  inferior  agency, 
less  removed  from  the  ordinary  scope  of  his  faculties.  He  has  a 
guardian  spirit,  on  whom  he  relies  for  succor  and  guidance.  To  him 
all  nature  is  instinct  with  mystic  influence.  Among  those  mountains 
not  a  wild  beast  was  prowling,  a  bird  singing,  or  a  leaf  fluttering, 
that  might  not  tend  to  direct  his  destiny  or  give  warning  of  what 
was  in  store  for  him ;  and  he  watches  the  world  of  nature  around 
him  as  the  astrologer  watches  the  stars.  So  closely  is  he  linked  with 
it  that  his  guardian  spirit,  no  unsubstantial  creation  of  the  fancy,  is 
usually  embodied  in  the  form  of  some  living  thing — a  bear,  a  wolf, 
an  eagle,  or  a  serpent ;  and  Mene-Seela,  as  he  gazed  intently  on 
the  old  pine  tree,  might  believe  it  to  inshrine  the  fancied  guide  and 
protector  of  his  life. 

Whatever  was  passing  in  the  mind  of  the  old  man,  it  was  no  part 
of  sense  or  of  delicacy  to  disturb  him.  Silently  retracing  my  foot- 


■^C^ 


?as 


TiiK  ()UK.(;()N  TuAii, 


I'  f 


;  .r 


stops,  1  lioscrntlcd  Iho  ^\vn  until  I  cainr  to  a  point  vvIumt  I  coiild 
climb  the  stoop  ]M(vipiv'os  that  shut  it  in.  ami  ^ain  thr  sido  of  tlir 
tno\intain.  LooUinj^  \ip.  I  saw  a  tall  poak  risin|>  atnon^  tlu'  wttods. 
vSo!nothinji>  inipoUotl  \\\c  \o  olitnl*;  I  lia<l  not  lolt  for  tnanv  a  &,\\< 
such  sMoni^th  anil  olastioity  of  limb.  An  botn-  an«l  a  balf  of  slow 
an<l  ofton  intonnittoil  labor  bton^bt  n»o  to  Ibo  vorv  snnunil  ;  and 
otnovj^inj:  frotn  tbo  ilaiU  sba<l»>\vs  of  tbo  rorUs  an«l  pinos.  I  stopped 
fortb  into  tbo  li^bl.  at\«l  walUiii^  aloti^  tbo  stinny  vot^jo  of  a  pmi- 
picc.  soatovl  nwsolf  on  its  oxtrotno  point.  I  .ookin^^  botwoon  Hio 
nunnitain  poaUs  to  tbo  wostwanl.  tbo  palo  bino  prairio  was  stroirlj 
inij  \o  tbo  fartbost  bori7on  like  a  soiotio  a«ul  traiuptil  oooan.  Thr 
sinnMnhlin}:^  nunnttaitis  woro  in  tbcnisolvos  stifVioiotUly  strikin^^  and 
ini]Mossivo.  bnt  tbis  contrast  j;avo  rodonbloil  olloct  to  tboir  stern 
foatmos. 


!■  t 

> 

> 


M     * 

1 


rAss/UiK  (W  THi-:  mountains 

WnKN  T  took  leave  of  Sbaw  at  l-n  Ucnitc's  ('am]).  T  promised  that 
I  would  moot  liim  at  b'ort  l.aramio  on  tbo  ist  of  August.  Tbat  day. 
accordiuj^  to  my  rockiMiinv:.  was  now  close  at  band.  Tt  was  itniMis- 
sible.  at  best,  to  tullill  my  otigaj^onKMit  exactly,  and  my  mootinj,^ 
with  him  must  have  Inrn  |v>st|K>ned  until  many  days  after  tbo  ap- 
[x^inted  time,  bad  uo\  tbo  plans  of  the  Indians  very  well  coincided 
\>nth  my  own.  They  too,  iutouiled  to  pass  the  mountains  and  iiiovo 
toward  the  fort.  To  vU>  so  at  this  p^int  was  impossible,  because  there 
was  no  o|HMiing ;  and  in  order  to  lincl  a  passage  we  were  obliged  to 
go  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  southward.  l«\to  in  the  afternoon  tiie 
camp  got  in  motion,  detiling  back  through  the  mountains  along  the 
same  narrow  passage  by  which  they  \vm\  entered.  I  rode  in  com- 
pany with  three  or  tour  young  Indians  at  the  rear,  and  the  moving 
swami  stretched  Ix^tore  mc.  in  the  ruddy  light  of  sunset,  or  in  tiio 
deep  shadow  of  the  mountains  far  beyond  my  sight.  It  was  an  ill- 
omened  spot  they  chose  to  encamp  upon.  Wbeti  they  were  there 
just  a  year  before,  a  war  party  of  ten  men,  led  by  The  Whirlwind's 
son.  had  gone  out  against  the  enemy,  and  not  one  had  ever  re- 
turned. This  was  the  immediate  cause  of  this  season's  warlike 


TftK  ORKfjoN  Trail 


/f 


,../^ 


v 


209 


|)rr)'arati<ins.  1  was  not  a  little  astotiislird  wfirn  I  ranir  to  the  cani|), 
al  llie  rcmfiision  of  liorrililr  roihkIr  with  whi(  h  it  was  fillrd  ;  tiowls, 
slirirl<s.  aii(!  vv;.ihii^s  wrrr  heard  frotn  all  the  women  present, 
inaiiv  of  whom  not  content  with  this  exhihition  of  ^jrief  for  the  loss 
iif  iheir  friends  and  relatives,  were  j^ashifij/  tlnir  le^s  dreply  with 
luiivrs.  A  warrior  iti  the  villaj^e,  who  had  lost  a  hrother  in  the  ex- 
|ir(lilion.  chose  another  mode  of  displaying  his  sorrc»w.  The  In- 
dians, who,  thon^h  ofteti  rapaeions,  are  ntterly  d<  void  of  avarice, 
;\iT  accustomed  in  times  of  tn(»nrninK,  or  <»ti  other  solemn  occasions, 
loj^ive  away  the  whole  of  their  possessiofis,  and  r'^dnce  thefnselves 
l()  nakedness  and  want.  The  warrior  in  <|uestion  led  his  two  f>est 
horses  into  the  center  of  the  villaf^e,  and  jjave  them  away  io  his 
friends;  upon  which  soti^s  and  acclamations  in  praise  of  his  ^en- 
rmsity  mingled  with  the  cries  of  the  women. 

(  hi  the  next  morning  we  entered  once  more  amon^  the  moun- 
tains. There  was  nothing  in  their  apf)earance  either  ^rand  or  pic- 
liHTS(|ue.  ihouj^h  they  were  desolate  to  the  last  degree,  heing  mere 
piles  of  l)lack  and  hroken  rocks,  without  trees  or  vei^etation  of  any 
kitid.  As  we  passed  anionj^  them  alonj^  a  wi<le  valley,  I  nfjticed  Kay- 
niond  ridin^j  hy  the  side  of  a  yoimger  Sfjuaw,  to  whom  he  was 
addrcssinit!^  varioiis  insinuating  compliments.  All  the  old  srjtiaws  in 
the  neighl)orho(Kl  watched  his  proceedings  in  great  adniiration,  and 
the  ^irl  herself  would  tmn  aside  her  head  and  laugh.  Just  then  the 
old  mule  thought  prf>per  to  display  her  vicious  |>ranks ;  she  began 
to  rear  and  phmge  most  furiously.  Raytnond  was  an  excellent  rider, 
;iti(l  at  first  he  stuck  fast  in  his  seat;  hut  the  moment  after,  I  saw 
the  mule's  hifid-legs  flourishing  in  the  air,  and  my  imlucky  follower 
pitcliing  head  foremost  over  her  ears.  There  was  a  hurst  of  screams 
and  laughter  from  all  the  women,  in  which  his  mistress  herself  took 
part,  and  Haymond  was  instantly  assailed  hy  such  a  shower  of 
witticisms,  that  he  was  glad  to  ride  forward  out  of  hearing. 

Not  long  after,  as  1  rode  near  him,  I  heard  him  shouting  to  me. 
He  was  pointing  toward  a  detached  rocky  hill  that  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  valley  he  fore  us,  and  from  hehind  it  a  lr)ng  fde  of  elk 
came  out  at  full  speed  and  entered  an  opening  in  the  side  of  the 
mountain.  They  had  scarcely  disappeared  when  whoops  and  ex- 
clamations came  from  fifty  voices  around  me.  The  young  men 
bpcd  from  their  horses,  flung  down  their  heavy  buffalo  robes, 
and  ran  at  full  speed  toward  the  foot  of  the  nearest  mountain. 


ti,  ' 


mm 


In*        *  •  'i   «.' 


210 


^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


-Sri 


Reynal  also  broke  away  at  a  gallop  in  the  same  direction,  "Come 
on  !  come  on !"  he  called  to  us.  "Do  you  see  that  band  of  bighorn  up 
yonder  ?  If  there's  one  of  them,  there's  a  hundred !" 

In  fact,  near  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  I  could  see  a  large 
number  of  small  white  objects,  moving  rapidly  upward  among  the 
precipices,  while  others  were  filing  along  its  rocky  profile.  Anxious 
to  see  the  six)rt,  I  galloped  forward,  and  entering  a  passage  in  the 
side  of  the  mountain,  ascended  the  loose  rocks  as  far  as  my  horse 
could  carry  me.  Here  I  fastened  her  to  an  old  pine  tree  that  stood 
alone,  scorching  in  the  sun.  At  that  moment  Raymond  called  to  nie 
from  the  right  that  another  band  of  sheep  was  close  at  hand  in  that 
direction.  I  ran  up  to  the  top  of  the  opening,  which  gave  mc  a  full 
view  into  the  rocky  gorge  beyond ;  and  here  I  plainly  saw  some 
fifty  or  sixty  sheep,  almost  within  rifle-shot,  clattering  upward 
among  the  rocks,  and  endeavoring,  after  their  usual  custom,  to 
reach  the  highest  point.  The  naked  Indians  bounded  up  lightly  in 
pursuit.  In  a  moment  the  game  and  hunters  disappeared.  Nothing 
could  be  seen  or  heard  but  the  occasional  report  of  a  gun,  more  and 
more  distant,  reverberating  among  the  rocks. 

I  turned  to  descend,  and  as  I  did  so  I  could  see  the  valley  below 
alive  with  Indians  passing  rapidly  through  it,  on  horseback  and  on 
foot.  A  little  farther  on,  all  were  stopping  as  they  came  up;  the 
camp  was  preparing,  and  the  lodges  rising.  I  descended  to  this  spot, 
and  soon  after  Reynal  and  Raymond  returned.  They  bore  between 
them  a  sheep  which  they  had  pelted  to  death  with  stones  from  the 
edge  of  a  ravine,  along  the  bottom  of  which  it  was  attempting  to 
escape.  One  by  one  the  hunters  came  dropping  in ;  yet  such  is  the 
activity  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  sheep  that,  although  sixty  or  sev- 
enty men  were  out  in  pursuit,  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  animals 
were  killed.  Of  these  only  one  was  a  full-grown  male.  He  had  a 
pair  of  horns  twisted  like  a  ram's,  the  dimensions  of  which  were 
almoit  btiyoMlDelief.  I  have  seen  among  the  Indians  ladles  with 
long  handles,  capable  of  containing  more,  than  a  quart,  cut  from 
such  horns. 

There  is  something  peculiarly  interesting  in  the  character  and 
habits  of  the  mountain  sheep,  whose  chosen  retreats  are  above  the 
region  of  vegetation  and  storms,  and  who  leap  among  the  giddy 
precipices  of  their  aerial  home  as  actively  as  the  antelope  skims 
over  the  prairies  below. 


^.^^  -Jkxj^     (^Js^^ric  e^"^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


211 


Through  the  whole  of  the  next  morning  wc  were  moving  for- 
ward, among  the  hills.  On  the  following  day  the  heights  gathered 
around  us,  and  the  passage  of  the  mountains  began  in  earnest,  be- 
fore the  village  left  its  camping  ground,  I  set  forward  in  company 
with  the  Eagle-r>ather,  a  man  of  powerful  frame,  but  of  bad  and 
sinister  face.  His  son,  a  light-limbed  boy,  rode  with  us,  and  another 
Indian,  named  the  Panther,  was  also  of  the  party.  Leaving  the 
village  out  of  sight  behind  us,  we  rode  together  up  a  rocky  defile. 
After  a  while,  however,  the  Eagle-Feather  discovered  in  the  dis- 
staiice  some  appearance  of  game,  and  set  off  with  his  son  in  i)ur- 
suit  of  it,  while  I  went  forward  with  the  Panther,  This  was  a  mere 
nom  dc  guerre;  for,  like  many  Indians,  he  concealed  his  real  name 
out  of  some  superstitious  notion.  He  was  a  very  noble  looking  fel- 
low. As  he  suffered  his  ornamented  buffalo  robe  to  fall  into  folds 
about  his  loins,  his  stately  and  graceful  figure  was  fully  displayed ; 
and  while  he  sat  his  horse  in  an  easy  attitude,  the  long  feathers  of 
the  prairie  cock  fluttering  from  the  crown  of  his  head,  he  seemed 
the  very  model  of  a  wild  prairie-rider.  He  had  not  the  same  fea- 
tures as  those  of  other  Indians.  Unless  his  handsome  face  greatly 
belied  him,  he  was  free  from  the  jealousy,  suspicion,  and  malignant 
cunning  of  his  people.  For  the  most  part,  a  civilized  white  man  can 
discover  but  very  few  points  of  sympathy  between  his  own  nature 
and  that  of  an  Indian.  With  every  disposition  to  do  justice  to  their 
good  qualities,  he  must  be  conscious  that  an  impassable  gulf  lies 
between  him  and  his  red  brethren  of  the  prairie.  Nay,  so  alien  to 
himself  do  they  appear  that,  having  breathed  for  a  few  months  or  a 
few  weeks  the  air  of  this  region,  he  begins  to  look  upon  them  as  a 
troublesome  and  dangerous  species  of  wild  beast,  and,  if  expedient, 
he  could  shoot  them  with  as  little  compunction  as  they  themselves 
would  experience  after  performing  the  same  offtce  upon  him.  Yet, 
in  the  countenance  of  the  Panther,  I  gladly  read  that  there  were  at 
least  some  points  of  sympathy  between  him  and  me.  We  were  ex- 
cellent friends,  and  as  we  rode  forward  together  through  rocky 
passages,  deep  dells,  and  little  barren  plains,  he  occupied  himself 
very  zealously  in  teaching  me  the  Dakota  language.  After  a  while, 
we  came  to  a  little  grassy  recess,  where  some  gooseberry  bushes 
were  growing  at  the  foot  of  a  rock ;  and  these  offered  such  tempta- 
tion to  my  companion,  that  he  gave  over  his  instruction,  and 
stopped  so  long  to  gather  the  fruit  that  before  we  were  in  motion 


I;,. 


212 


The  Oregon  Trail 


wMi:t 


again  the  van  of  the  village  came  in  view.  An  old  woman  appeared, 
leading  down  her  pack  horse  among  the  rocks  above.  Savage  after 
savage  followed,  and  the  little  dell  was  soon  crowded  with  the 
throng. 

That  morning's  march  was  one  not  easily  to  be  forgotten.  It  led 
us  through  a  sublime  waste,  a  wilderness  of  mountains  and  pine 
forests,  over  which  the  spirit  of  loneliness  and  silence  seemed 
brooding.  Above  and  below  little  could  be  seen  but  the  same  dark 
green  foliage.  It  overspread  the  valleys,  and  the  mountains  were 
clothed. with  it  from  the  black  rocks  that  crowned  their  summits  to 
the  impetuous  streams  that  circled  round  their  base.  Scenery  like 
this,  it  might  seem,  could  have  no  very  cheering  effect  on  the  mind 
of  a  sick  man  (for  to-day  my  disease  had  again  assailed  me)  in 
the  midst  of  a  horde  of  savages;  but  if  the  reader  has  ever  wan- 
dered, with  a  true  hunter's  spirit,  among  the  forests  of  Maine,  or 
the  more  picturesque  solitudes  of  the  Adirondack  Mountains,  he 
will  understand  how  the  somber  woods  and  mountains  around  me 
might  have  awakened  any  other  feelings  than  those  of  gloom.  In 
truth  they  recalled  gladdening  recollections  of  similar  scenes  in  a 
distant  and  far  different  land.  After  we  had  been  advancing  for 
several  hours  through  passages  always  narrow,  often  obstructed 
and  difificult,  I  saw  at  a  little  distance  on  our  right  a  narrow  open- 
ing between  two  high  wooded  precipices.  All  within  seemed  dark- 
ness and  mystery.  In  the  mood  in  which  I  found  myself  something 
strongly  impelled  me  to  enter.  Passing  over  the  intervening  space 
I  guided  my  horse  through  the  rocky  portal,  and  as  I  did  so  in- 
stinctively drew  the  covering  from  my  rifle,  half  expecting  that 
some  unknown  evil  lay  in  ambush  within  those  dreary  recesses. 
The  place  was  shut  in  among  tall  cliffs,  and  so  deeply  shadowed  by 
a  host  of  old  pine  trees  that,  though  the  sun  shone  bright  on  the 
side  of  the  mountain,  nothing  but  a  dim  twilight  could  penetrate 
within.  As  far  as  I  could  see  it  had  no  tenants  except  a  few  hawks 
and  owls,  who,  dismayed  at  my  intrusion,  flapped  hoarsely  away 
among  the  shaggy  branches.  I  moved  forward,  determined  to  ex- 
plore the  mystery  to  the  bottom,  and  soon  became  involved  among 
the  pines.  The  genius  of  the  place  exercised  a  strange  influence 
upon  my  mind.  Its  faculties  were  stimulated  into  extraordinary 
activity,  and  as  I  passed  along  many  half-forgotten  incidents,  and 
the  images  of  persons  and  things  far  distant,  rose  rapidly  before  me 


The  Oregon  Trail 


213 


»j 


with  surprising  distinctness.  In  that  perilous  wilderness,  eight  hun- 
dred miles- removed  beyond  the  faintest  vestige  of  civilization,  the 
scenes  of  another  hemisphere,  the  seat  of  ancient  refinement,  passed 
before  me  more  like  a  succession  of  vivid  paintings  than  any  mere 
dreams  of  the  fancy.  I  saw  the  church  of  St.  Peter's  illumined  on 
ihe  evening  of  Easter  Day,  the  whole  majestic  pile,  from  the  cross 
to  the  foundation  stone,  penciled  in  fire  and  shedding  a  radiance, 
like  the  serene  light  of  the  moon,  on  the  sea  of  upturned  faces  be- 
low. I  saw  the  peak  of  Motwit  Etna  towering  above  its  inky  mantle 
of  clouds  and  lightly  curling  its  wreaths  of  milk-white  smoke 
against  the  soft  sky  flushed  with  the  Sicilian  sunset.  I  saw  also  the 
gloomy  vaulted  passages  and  the  narrow  cells  of  the  Passionist 
convent  where  I  once  had  sojourned  for  a  few  days  with  the  fanati- 
cal monks,  its  pale,  stern  inmates  in  their  robes  of  black,  and  the 
grated  window  from  whence  I  could  look  out,  a  forbidden  indul- 
gence, upon  the  melancholy  Coliseum  and  the  crumbling  ruins  of 
the  Eternal  City.  The  mighty  glaciers  of  the  Spliigen  too  rose  be- 
fore me,  gleaming  in  the  sun  like  polished  silver,  and  those  terrible 
solitudes,  the  birthplace  of  the  Rhine,  where,  bursting  from  the  \ 
bowels  of  its  native  mountains,  it  lashes  and  foams  down  the  rocky 
abyss  into  the  little  valley  of  Andeer.  These  recollections,  and  many 
more,  crowded  upon  me,  until  remembering  that  it  was  hardly  wise 
to  remain  long  in-  such  a  place,  I  mounted  again  and  retraced  my 
steps.  Issuing  from  between  the  rocks  I  saw  a  few  rods  before  me 
the  men,  women,  and  children,  dogs  and  horses,  still  filing  slowly 
across  the  little  glen.  A  bare  round  hill  rose  directly  above  them.  I 
rode  to  the  top,  and  from  this  point  I  could  look  down  on  the  savage 
procession  as  it  passed  just  beneath  my  feet,  and  far  on  the  left  I 
could  see  its  thin  and  broken  line,  visible  only  at  intervals,  stretch- 
ing away  for  miles  among  the  mountains.  On  the  farthest  ridge 
horsemen  were  still  descending  like  mere  specks  in  the  distance. 

I  remained  on  the  hill  until  all  had  passed,  and  then,  descending, 
followed  after  them.  A  little  farther  on  I  found  a  very  small 
meadow,  set  deeply  among  steep  mountains ;  and  here  the  whole 
village  had  encamped.  The  little  spot  was  crowded  with  the  con- 
fused and  disorderly  host.  Some  of  the  lodges  were  already  com- 
pletely prepared,  or  the  squaws  perhaps  were  busy  in  drawing  the 
heavy  coverings  of  skin  over  the  bare  poles.  Others  were  as  yet 
mere  skeletons,  while  others  still — poles,  covering,  and  all — lay 


V 


MP 


214 


The  Oregon  Trail 


•m- 


h,  f' 

*    ^ 

' 

J'    3 

4 

1   .  ' 

t 

'  1 

4  { 

'    t 

!' 

t     ) 

J          » 

'     *         ] 

_, 

i              .             '■ 

scattered  in  complete  disorder  on  the  ground  among  bulYalo  robes, 
bales  of  meat,  domestic  utensils,  harness,  and  weapons.  S^juaws 
were  screaming  to  one  another,  horses  rearing  and  plunging,  do^s 
yelping,  eager  to  he  disburdened  of  their  loads,  while  thi-  fluttering,' 
of  feathers  and  the  gleam  of  barbaric  ornaments  added  liveliness  to 
the  scene.  The  small  children  ran  about  amid  the  crowd,  wliilc 
many  of  the  boys  were  scrambling  among  the  overhanging  rocks, 
and  standing,  with  their  little  bows  in  their  hands,  looking  down 
upon  a  restless  throng.  In  contrast  with  the  general  confusion,  a 
circle  of  old  men  and  warriors  sat  in  the  midst,  smoking  in  pro- 
found  indilTerence  and  tranquillity.  The  disorder  at  length  subsickxl. 
The  horses  were  driven  away  to  feed  along  the  adjacent  valley,  and 
the  camp  assumed  an  air  of  listless  repose.  It  was  scarcely  past 
noon ;  a  vast  white  canopy  of  smoke  from  a  burning  forest  to  tlie 
eastward  overhung  the  place,  and  partially  obscured  the  sun  ;  yet  the 
heat  was  almost  insupportable.  The  lodges  stood  crowded  together 
without  order  in  the  narrow  space.  Each  was  a  perfect  hothouse, 
within  which  the  lazy  proprietor  lay  sleeping.  The  camp  was  silent 
as  death.  Nothing  stirred  except  now  and  then  an  old  woman 
passing  from  lodge  to  lodge.  The  girls  and  young  men  sat  together 
in  groups  under  the  pine  trees  upon  the  surrounding  heights.  The 
dogs  lay  panting  on  the  ground,  too  lazy  even  to  growl  at  the  white 
man.  At  the  entrance  of  the  meadow  there  was  a  cold  spring  among 
the  rocks,  completely  overshadowed  by  tall  trees  and  dense  under- 
growth. In  this  cold  and  shady  retreat  a  number  of  girls  were  as- 
sembled, sitting  together  on  rocks  and  fallen  logs,  discussing  the 
latest  gossip  of  the  village,  or  laughing  and  throwing  water  with 
their  hands  at  the  intruding  Meneaska.  The  minutes  seemed  length- 
ened into  hours.  I  lay  for  a  long  time  under  a  tree,  studying  the 
Ogallalla  tongue,  with  the  zealous  instructions  of  my  friend  the 
Panther.  When  we  were  both  tired  of  this  I  went  and  lay  down  by 
the  side  of  a  deep,  clear  pool  formed  by  the  water  of  the  spring.  A 
shoal  of  little  fishes  of  about  a  pin's  length  were  playing  in  it, 
sporting  together,  as  it  seemed,  very  amicably;  but  on  closer  ob- 
servation, I  saw  that  they  were  engaged  in  a  cannibal  warfare 
among  themselves.  Now  and  then  a  small  one  would  fall  a  victim, 
and  immediately  disappear  down  the  maw  of  his  voracious  con- 
queror. Every  moment,  however,  the  tyrant  of  the  pool,  a  monster 
about  three  inches  long,  with  staring  goggle  eyes,  would  slowly 


/4<r- 


li    l^a-z^vA  ^\^^^^Mj\^f^^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


215 


issue  forth  with  quivering  fins  and  tail  from  under  the  shelving 
bank.  The  small  fry  at  this  would  suspend  their  hostilities,  and 
scatter  in  a  panic  at  the  appearance  of  overwhelming  force. 

"Soft-hearted  philanthropists,"  thought  I,  "may  sigh  long  for 
their  peSceful  miTlehnllimx^r  from  minnows  up  to  men,  life  is  an 
incessant  battle/*      

Kvcning  approached  at  last,  the  tall  mountain-tops  around  were 
still  gay  and  bright  in  sunshine,  while  our  deep  glen  was  completely 
sha(lt)wed.  I  left  the  camp  and  ascended  a  neighboring  hill,  whose 
rocky  summit  commanded  a  wide  view  over  the  surrounding  wild- 
erness. The  sun  was  still  glaring  through  the  stiflf  pines  on  the 
ridpe  of  the  western  mountain.  In  a  moment  he  was  gone,  and  as 
the  landscape  rapidly  darkened,  I  turned  again  toward  the  village. 
As  I  descended  the  hill,  the  howling  of  wolves  and  the  barking  of 
foxes  came  up  out  of  the  dim  woods  from  far  and  near.  The  camp 
was  glowing  with  a  multitude  of  fires,  and  alive  with  dusky  naked 
figures,  whose  tall  shadows  flitted  among  the  surrounding  crags. 

I  found  a  circle  of  smokers  seated  in  their  usual  place  ;  that  is,  o» 
the  ground  before  the  lodge  of  a  certain  warrior,  who  seemed  to  be 
generally  known  for  his  social  qualities.  I  sat  down  to  smoke  a 
parting  pipe  v/ith  my  savage  friends.  That  day  was  the  ist  of 
August,  on  which  I  had  promised  to  meet  Shaw  at  Fort  Laramie. 
The  Fort  was  less  than  two  days*  journey  distant,  and  that  my 
friend  need  not  suffer  anxiety  on  my  account,  I  resolved  to  push 
forward  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  the  place  of  meeting.  I  went  to 
look  after  the  Hail-Storm,  and  having  found  him,  I  offered  him  a 
handful  of  hawks'-bells  and  a  paper  of  vermilion,  on  condition  that 
he  would  guide  me  in  the  morning  through  the  mountains  within 
sight  of  Laramie  Creek. 

The  Hail-Storm  ejaculated  "How!"  and  accepted  the  gift.  Noth- 
ing more  was  said  on  either  side ;  the  matter  was  settled,  and  I  lay 
down  to  sleep  in  Kongra-Tonga's  lodge. 

Long  before  daylight  Raymond  shook  me  by  the  shoulder. 

"Everything  is  ready,"  he  said. 

I  went  out.  The  morning  was  chill,  damp,  and  dark;  and  the 
whole  camp  seemed  asleep.  The  Hail- Storm  sat  on  horseback  be- 
fore the  lodge,  and  my  mare  Pauline  and  the  mule  which  Raymond 
rode  were  picketed  near  it.  We  saddled  and  made  our  other  ar- 
rangements for  the  journey,  but  before  these  were  completed  the 


j-3  i% 


l# 


1  • 


Rf.t  ^  i  ' 


.-1  ' 


1-1 


)  I 


216 


The  Oregon  Trail 


camp  began  to  stir,  and  the  lodge-coverings  fluttered  and  rustled  as 
the  squaws  pulled  them  down  in  preparation  for  departure.  Just  as 
the  light  began  to  appear  we  left  the  ground,  passing  up  through  a 
narrow  opening  among  the  rocks  which  led  eastward  out  of  the 
meadow.  Gaining  the  top  of  this  passage,  I  turned  round  and  sat 
looking  back  upon  the  camp,  dimly  visible  in  the  gray  light  of  the 
morning.  All  was  alive  with  the  bustle  of  preparation.  I  turned 
away,  half  unwilling  to  take  a  final  leave  of  my  savage  associates. 
We  turned  to  the  right,  passing  among  the  rocks  and  pine  trees  so 
dark  that  for  a  while  we  could  scarcely  see  our  way.  The  country 
in  front  was  wild  and  broken,  half  hill,  half  plain,  partly  open  and 
partly  covered  with  woods  of  pine  and  oak.  Barriers  of  lofty  moun- 
tains encompassed  it ;  the  woods  were  fresh  and  cool  in  the  early 
morning ;  the  peaks  of  the  mountains  were  wreathed  with  mist,  and 
sluggish  vapors  were  entangled  among  the  forests  upon  their  sides. 
At  length  the  black  pinnacle  of  the  tallest  mountain  was  tipped  with 
gold  by  the  rising  sun.  About  that  time  ths  Hail-Storm,  who  rode 
in  front  gave  a  low  exclamation.  Some  large  animal  leaped  up  from 
among  the  bushes,  and  an  elk,  as  I  thought,  his  horns  thrown  back 
over  his  neck,  darted  past  us  across  the  open  space,  and  bounded 
like  a  mad  thing  away  among  the  adjoining  pines.  Raymond  was 
soon  out  of  his  sar'dle,  but  before  he  could  fire,  the  animal  was  full 
two  hundred  yards  distant.  The  ball  struck  its  mark,  though  much 
too  low  for  mortal  effect.  The  elk,  however,  wheeled  in  its  flight, 
and  ran  at  full  speed  among  the  trees,  nearly  at  right  angles  to  his 
former  course.  I  fired  and  broke  his  shoulder ;  still  he  moved  on, 
limping  down  into  the  neighboring  woody  hollow,  whither  the 
young  Indian  followed  and  killed  him.  When  we  reached  the  spot 
we  discovered  him  to  be  no  elk,  but  a  black-tailed  deer,  an  animal 
nearly  twice  the  size  of  the  common  deer,  and  quite  unknown  to  the 
East.  We  began  to  cut  him  up ;  the  reports  of  the  rifles  had  reached 
the  ears  of  the  Indians,  and  before  our  task  was  finished  several  of 
them  came  to  the  spot.  Leaving  the  hide  of  the  deer  to  the  Hail- 
Storm,  we  hung  as  much  of  the  meat  as  we  wanted  behind  our 
saddles,  left  ^he  rest  to  the  Indians,  and  resumed  our  journey. 
Meanwhile  the  village  was  on  its  way,  and  had  gone  so  far  that  to 
get  in  advance  of  it  was  impossible.  Therefore  we  directed  our 
course  so  as  to  strike  its  line  of  march  at  the  nearest  point.  In  a 
short  time,  through  the  dark  trunks  of  the  pines,  we  could  see  the 


The  Oregon  Trail 


217 


figures  of  the  Indians  as  they  passed.  Once  more  we  were  among 
them.  They  were  moving  with  even  more  than  their  usual  precipi- 
tation, crowded  close  together  in  a  narrow  pass  between  rocks  and 
old  pine  trees.  We  were  on  the  eastern  descent  of  the  mountain, 
and  soon  came  to  a  rough  and  difficult  defile,  leading  down  a  very 
steep  declivity.  The  whole  swarm  poured  down  together,  filling  the 
rocky  passageway  like  some  turbulent  mountain  stream.  The  moun- 
tains before  us  were  on  fire,  and  had  been  so  for  weeks.  The  view 
in  front  was  obscured  by  a  vast  dim  sea  of  smoke  and  vapor,  while 
on  either  hand  the  tall  cliffs,  bearing  aloft  their  crest  of  pines,  thrust 
their  heads  boldly  through  it,  and  the  sharp  pinnacles  and  broken 
ridges  of  the  mountains  beyond  them  were  faintly  traceable  as 
through  a  veil.  The  scene  in  itself  was  most  grand  and  imposing, 
but  with  the  savage  multitude,  the  armed  warriors,  the  naked  chil- 
dren, the  gayly  appareled  girls,  pouring  impetuously  down  the 
heights,  it  would  have  formed  a  noble  subject  for  a  painter,  and  only 
the  pen  of  a  Scott  could  have  done  it  justice  in  description. 

We  passed  over  a  burnt  tract  where  the  ground  was  hot  beneath 
the  horses'  feet,  and  between  the  blazing  sides  of  two  mountains. 
Before  long  we  had  descended  to  a  softer  region,  where  we  found 
a  succession  of  little  valleys  watered  by  a  stream,  along  the  borders 
of  which  grew  abundance  of  wild  gooseberries  and  currants,  and 
the  children  and  many  of  the  men  straggled  from  the  line  of  march 
to  gather  them  as  we  passed  along.  Descending  still  farther,  the 
view  changed  rapidly.  The  burning  mountains  were  behind  us,  and 
through  the  open  valleys  in  front  we  could  see  the  ocean-like 
prairie,  stretching  beyond  the  sight.  After  passing  through  a  line 
of  trees  that  skirted  the  brook,  the  Indians  filed  out  upon  the  plains. 
I  was  thirsty  and  knelt  down  by  the  little  stream  to  drink.  As  I 
mounted  again  I  very  carelessly  left  my  rifle  among  the  grass,  and 
my  thoughts  being  otherwise  absorbed,  I  rode  for  some  distance 
before  discovering  its  absence.  As  the  reader  may  conceive,  I  lost 
no  time  in  turning  about  and  galloping  back  in  search  of  it.  Passing 
the  line  of  Indians,  I  watched  every  warrior  as  he  rode  by  me  at  a 
canter,  and  at  length  discovered  my  rifle  in  the  hands  of  one  of 
them,  who,  on  my  approaching  to  claim  it,  immediately  gave  it  up. 
Having  no  other  means  of  acknowledging  the  obligation,  I  took  off 
one  of  my  spurs  and  gave  it  to  him.  He  was  greatly  delighted, 
looking  upon  it  as  a  distinguished  mark  of  favor,  and  immediately 


m\\ 


Riff 


1        % 


,  '■'•»' 


I'  if 

i 


hit 


218 


TiiK  ()rk(;()n  Trail 


hold  out  his  foot  for  mo  to  hucklo  it  on.  As  soon  as  T  had  done  so, 
ho  struck  it  with  force  into  tho  side  of  his  liorso,  who  j;avi'  a  vio- 
lent loap.  Tlio  Indian  lau^hod  and  spurred  harder  than  hefore.  y\t 
this  tlie  h«>rso  sliot  away  hke  an  arrow,  amid  tlie  screams  and  lau,i,'h- 
tor  of  tho  stjuaws,  and  tlio  ejaculations  of  the  men,  wlio  exclaimed: 
"W'ashtay  ! — Clood  !"  at  tho  |>otent  etVect  of  my  ;;ift.  'i'hc  Indian  had 
no  saddle,  and  nothin>;  in  place  of  a  hridle  except  a  leather  striiij,' 
tied  round  the  hnrso's  jaw.  The  animal  was  of  comse  wholly  nn- 
contndlahlo,  and  stretched  away  at  full  speed  over  tho  prairie,  till 
he  and  his  rider  vanished  hohind  a  distant  swell.  1  never  saw  the 
man  ai;ain,  hut  I  presume  no  harm  came  to  him.  An  Indian  on 
horsohack  has  more  lives  than  a  cat. 

The  villa.u:e  encamped  on  a  scorchinpf  prairie,  close  to  the  foot  of 
the  mountains.  The  heat  was  most  intense  and  penetrating.  The 
coverings  of  the  lodges  were  raised  a  foot  or  more  from  the  ground. 
in  order  to  procure  some  circulation  of  air;  and  Reynal  thought 
proper  to  lay  aside  his  trapper's  dress  of  huckskin  and  assume  the 
very  scanty  costume  of  an  Indian.  Thus  elegantly  attired,  ho 
stretched  himself  in  his  lodge  on  a  huiYalo  rohe,  alternately  cursinj; 
the  heat  and  i)ufiing  at  the  pipe  which  he  and  I  ixissed  hetween  us. 
There  was  present  also  a  select  circle  of  Indian  friends  and  rela- 
tives. A  small  hoiled  puppy  was  served  up  as  a  i>arting  feast,  to 
which  was  adtled.  hy  way  of  dessert,  a  wooden  bowl  of  gooseber- 
ries, from  the  mountains. 

"Look  there,"  said  Reynal,  pointing  out  of  the  opening  of  his 
lodge ;  "do  you  see  that  line  of  l3uttes  about  fiftei.  .  miles  oft"?  Well, 
now,  do  you  see  that  farthest  one,  with  the  white  speck  on  the  face 
of  it  ?  Do  you  think  you  ever  saw  it  before  ?" 

"It  looks  to  me,"  said  I,  "like  the  hill  that  we  were  camped  under 
when  we  were  on  Laramie  Creek,  six  or  eight  weeks  ago." 

"You've  hit  it,"  answered  Reynal. 

"Go  and  bring  in  the  animals,  Raymond,"  said  I:  "we'll  camp 
there  to-night,  and  start  for  the  fort  in  the  morning." 

The  more  and  the  mule  were  soon  before  the  lodge.  We  saddled 
them,  and  in  the  meantime  a  number  of  Indians  collected  about  us. 
The  virtues  of  Pauline,  my  strong,  fleet,  and  hardy  little  mare, 
were  well  known  in  camp,  and  several  of  the  visitors  were  mounted 
upon  good  horses  which  they  had  brought  me  as  presents.  I 
promptly  declined  their  offers,  since  accepting  them  would  have  in- 


TiiK  Ori:(.()N  Trah, 


210 


volvcd  the  necessity  of  traiisfcrrin^j  fK)or  I\iulinc  into  their  bar- 
|ian»us  hands.  We  took  leave  of  Keynal,  l)ut  not  of  the  In(hans, 
will)  are  accustomed  to  dispense  witli  such  superfluous  cerenn)nies. 
Lcavinj;  the  camp  we  roch*  straight  over  the  prairie  toward  the 
while-faced  hhilV,  wliose  pale  ridges  swelled  ^aiitly  a^amst  the 
h(iri/on,  like  a  cloud.  An  Indian  went  with  us,  whose  name  I  forj^'et, 
tiioiij^h  the  ugliness  of  his  face  and  the  ^,'hastly  wi<lth  of  his  moutli 
dwell  vividly  in  my  recollection.  The  antel(»pe  were  immerous,  hut 
wc  did  not  heed  them.  We  rode  directly  toward  our  destination, 
over  the  arid  i)Iains  and  harren  hills,  until,  late  in  the  afternoon. 
half  spent  with  heat,  thirst,  and  fati^nie,  wc  saw  a  j.jla<ldenin^ 
sit;lit :  the  lon^  line  of  trees  and  the  deep  ^ulf  that  mark  the  c«turse 
of  Laramie  Creek.  I'assiufj  through  the  growth  of  huge  dilapidated 
old  cotton-wood  trees  that  !K)rdered  the  creek,  we  rode  across  to 
tiu'  other  side.  The  rapid  and  foaming  waters  were  filled  with  fish 
playing  and  splashing  in  the  shallows.  As  we  gained  the  farther 
Ivink,  our  horses  turned  eagerly  to  drink,  and  we,  kneeling  on  the 
sand,  followed  their  example.  We  had  not  gone  far  before  the 
sane  began  to  grow  familiar. 

"We  are  getting  near  home,  Raymond,"  said  I. 

There  stood  the  Big  Tree  under  which  we  had  encamped  so 
long ;  there  were  the  white  cliffs  that  used  to  look  down  upon  our 
tent  when  it  stood  at  the  bend  of  the  creek ;  there  was  the  meadow 
in  which  our  horses  had  grazed  for  weeks,  and  a  little  farther  on, 
the  prairie-dog  village  where  I  had  beguiled  many  a  languid  hour 
in  persecuting  the  unfortunate  inhabitants. 

"We  are  going  to  catch  it  now,"  said  Raymond,  turning  his 
broad,  vacant  face  up  towards  the  sky. 

hi  truth,  the  landscape,  the  cliffs  and  the  meadow,  the  stream 
and  the  groves  were  darkening  fast.  Black  masses  of  cloud  were 
swelling  up  in  the  south,  and  the  thunder  was  growling  ominously. 

"We  will  camp  here,"  I  said,  pointing  to  a  dense  grove  of  trees 
lower  down  the  stream.  Raymond  and  I  turned  toward  it,  but  the 
Indian  stopped  and  called  earnestly  after  us.  When  we  demanded 
what  was  the  matter,  he  said  that  the  ghosts  of  two  warriors  were 
always  among  those  trees,  and  that  if  we  slept  there,  they  would 
scream  and  throw  stones  at  us  all  night,  and  perhaps  steal  our 
horses  before  morning.  Thinking  it  as  well  to  humor  him,  we  left 
behind  us  the  haunt  of  these  extraordinary  ghosts,  and  passed  on 


:!'■  :: 


220 


The  Oregon  Trail 


m 


i  \ 


'»  .< 


^ 


\ 


V 


m  \ii 


toward  Giugwater,  riding  at  full  gallop,  for  the  big  drops  began 
to  patter  down.  Soon  we  came  in  sight  of  the  poplar  saplings  that 
grew  about  the  mouth  of  the  little  stream.  We  leaped  to  the  ground, 
threw  off  our  saddles,  turned  our  horses  loose,  and  drawing  our 
knives,  began  to  slash  among  the  bushes  to  cut  twigs  and  branches 
fur  making  a  shelter  against  the  rain.  Bending  down  the  taller 
saplings  as  they  grew,  we  piled  the  young  shoots  upon  them,  and 
thus  made  a  convenient  |>enthouse,  but  all  our  labor  was  useless. 
The  storm  scarcely  touched  us.  Half  a  mile  on  our  right  the  rain 
was  pouring  down  like  a  cataract,  and  the  thunder  roared  over  the 
prairie  like  a  battery  of  cannon  ;  while  we  by  good  fortune  received 
only  a  few  heavy  drops  from  the  skirt  of  the  passing  cloud.  The 
.veather  cleared  r  id  the  sun  set  gloriously.  Sitting  close  under  our 
leafy  canopy,  we  jiroceeded  to  discuss  a  substantial  meal  of  zvasna 
V^  which  Weah-Washtay  had  given  me.  The  Indian  had  brought  with 
him  his  pipe  and  a  bag  of  ^sJio)if[sasha:  so  before  lying  down  to 
sleep,  we  sat  for  some  time  smoking  together.  Previously,  however, 
our  wide-mouthed  friend  had  taken  the  precaution  of  carefully 
examining  the  neighborhood.  He  reported  that  eight  men,  counting 
them  on  his  fingers,  had  been  encamped  there  not  long  before. 
Bisonette,  Paul  Dorion,  Antoine  Le  Rouge,  Richardson,  and  four 
others,  whose  names  he  could  not  tell.  All  this  proved  strictly  cor- 
rect. By  what  instinct  he  had  arrived  at  such  accurate  conclusions, 
I  am  utterly  at  a  loss  to  divine. 

It  was  still  quite  dark  when  I  awoke  and  called  Raymond.  The 
Indian  was  already  gone,  having  chosen  to  go  on  before  us  to  the 
Fort.  Setting  out  after  him,  we  rode  for  some  tiTie  in  complete 
darkness,  and  when  the  sun  at  length  rose,  glowing  like  a  fiery  ball 
of  copper,  we  were  ten  miles  distant  from  the  Fort.  At  length, 
from  the  broken  summit  of  a  tall  sandy  bluff  we  could  see  Fort 
Laramie,  miles  before  us,  standing  by  the  side  of  the  stream  like  a 
little  gray  speck  in  the  midst  of  the  bounding  desolation.  I  stopped 
my  h(.ri,e,  and  sat  for  a  moment  looking  down  upon  it.  It  seemed 
to  me  the  very  center  of  comfort  and  civilization.  We  were  not  long 
in  approaching  it,  for  we  rode  at  speed  the  greater  part  of  the  way. 
Laramie  Creek  still  intervened  between  us  and  the  friendly  walls. 
Entering  the  water  at  the  point  where  we  had  struck  upon  the 
bank,  we  raised  our  feet  to  the  saddle  behind  us,  and  thus,  kneeling 
as  it  were  on  horseback,  passed  dry-shod  through  the  swift  cur- 


it  ^^  "^ 


The  Oregon  Trail 


221 


rent.  As  we  rode  up  the  bank,  a  number  of  men  appeared  in  the 
gateway.  Three  of  them  came  forward  to  meet  us.  In  a  moment  I 
distinguished  Shaw;  Henry  Cnatillon  followed  with  his  face  of 
manly  simplicity  and  frankness,  and  Delorier  came  last,  with  a 
broad  grin  of  welcome.  The  meeting  was  not  on  either  side  one  of 
mere  ceremony.  For  my  own  part,  the  change  was  a  most  agreeable 
one  from  the  society  of  savages  and  men  little  better  than  savages, 
to  that  of  my  gallant  and  high-minded  companion  and  our  noble- 
hearted  guide.  My  api)earance  was  equally  gratifying  to  Shaw,  who 
was  beginning  to  entertain  some  very  uncomfortable  surmises  con- 
cerning me.  /l^-rv^jt     a_a,  (lA-y^ 

Bordeaux  greet^  me  very  (^dially,  and  shouted  to  the  cook. 
This  functionary  was  a  new  acquisition,  having  lately  come  from 
Fort  Pierre  with  the  trading  wagons.  Whatever  skill  he  might  have 
boasi^d,  he  had  not  the  most  promising  materials  to  exercise  it 
upon.  He  set  before  me,  however,  a  breakfast  of  biscuit,  coffee,  and 
salt  pork.  It  seemed  like  a  new  phase  of  existence,  to  be  seated 
once  more  on  a  bench,  with  a  knife  and  fork,  a  plate  and  teacup, 
and  something  resembling  a  table  before  me.  The  coffee  seemed 
delicious,  and  the  bread  was  a  most  welcome  novelty,  since  for 
three  weeks  I  had  eaten  scarcely  anything  but  meat,  and  that  for 
the  most  part  without  salt.  The  meal  also  had  the  relish  of  good 
company,  for  opposite  to  me  sat  Shaw  in  elegant  dishabille.  If  one 
is  anxious  thoroughly  to  appreciate  the  value  of  a  congenial  com- 
panion, he  has  only  to  spend  a  few  weeks  by  himself  in  an  Ogal- 
lalla  village.  And  if  he  can  contrive  to  add  to  his  seclusion  a  debili- 
tating  and  somewhat-  rrit'^?i^  illxil^j  ^^^  perceptions  upon  this  sub 
ject  WltTbe  rendered  considerably  more  vivid. 

Shaw  had  been  upward  of  two  weeks  at  the  Fort.  I  found  him 
established  in  his  old  quarters,  a  large  apartment  usually  occupied 
by  the  absent  bourgeois.  In  one  corner  was  a  soft  and  luxuriant  pile 
of  excellent  buffalo  robes,  and  here  I  lay  down.  Shaw  brought  me 
three  books. 

''Here,"  said  he,  "is  your  Shakespeare  and^Bxton,  and  here  iV*^^  ^ 
the  Old  Testament,  v/hich  has  as  much  poetry  in  it  as  the  other  two    '  ''^~>-) 
put  together."    '''' — - 

I  chose  the  worst  of  the  three,  and  for  the  greater  part  of  that 
day  lay  on  the  buffalo  robes,  fairly  reveling  in  the  creations  of  that 
resplendent  genius  which  has  achieved  no  more  signal  triumph 


(/ 


m 


r 


II 


222 


The  Oregon  TiIail 


than  that  of  half  beguiling  us  to  forget  the  pitiful  and  unmanly 
character  of  its  possessor. 


!   ' 


A, 


Chapter  XX 
THE  LONELY  JOURNEY 

On  the  dav"  of  my  arrival  at  Fort  Laramie,  Shaw  and  I  were 
lounging  on  two  buflfalo  robes  in  the  large  apartment  hospitably 
assigned  to  us ;  Henry  Qiatillon  also  was  present,  busy  about  the 
harness  and  weapons,  which  had  been  brought  into  the  room,  and 
two  or  three  Indiaiis  were  crouching  on  the  floor,  eyeing  us  with 
their  fixed,  unwavering  gaze. 

"I  have  been  well  off  here,"  said  Shaw,  "in  all  respects  but  one ; 
there  is  no  good  shongsasha  to  be  had  for  love  or  money." 

I  gave  him  a  small  leather  bag  containing  some  of  excellent  qual- 
ity, which  I  had  brought  from  the  Black  Hills. 

"Now,  Henry,"  said  he,  "hand  me  Papin's  chopping-board,  or 
give  it  to  that  Indian,  and  let  him  cut  the  mixture ;  they  understand 
it  better  than  any  white  man." 

The  Indian,  without  saying  a  word,  mixed  the  bark  and  the 
tobacco  in  due  proportions,  filled  the  pipe  and  lighted  it.  This  done, 
my  companion  and  I  proceeded  to  deliberate  on  our  future  course 
of  proceeding ;  first,  however,  Shaw  acquainted  me  with  some  inci- 
dents which  had  occurred  at  the  fort  during  my  absence. 

About  a  week  previous  four  men  had  arrived  from  beyond  the 
mountains ;  Sublette,  Reddick,  and  two  others.  Just  before  reaching 
the  Fort  they  had  met  a  large  party  of  Indians,  chiefly  young  men. 
All  of  ^hem  belonged  to  the  village  of  our  old  friend  Smoke,  who, 
with  his  whole  band  of  adherents,  professed  the  greatest  friendship 
for  the  whites.  The  travelers  therefore  approached,  and  began  to 
converse  without  the  least  suspicion.  Suddenly,  however,  their 
bridles  were  violently  seized,  and  they  were  ordered  to  dismount. 
Instead  of  complying,  they  struck  their  horses  with  full  force,  and 
broke  away  from  the  Indians.  As  they  galloped  off  they  heard  a  yell 
behind  them,  mixed  with  a  burst  of  derisive  laughter,  and  the  re- 
ports of  several  guns.  None  of  them  were  hurt,  though  Reddick's 


The  Oregon  Trail 


223 


bridle  rein  was  cut  by  a  bullet  within  an  inch  of  his  hand.  After 
this  taste  o£  Indian  hostility  they  felt  for  the  moment  no  disposition 
to  encounter  further  risks.  They  intended  to  pursue  the  route  south- 
ward along  the  foot  of  the  mountains  to  Bent's  Fort ;  and  as  our 
plans  coincided  with  theirs,  they  proposed  to  join  forces.  Finding, 
however,  that  I  did  not  return,  they  grew  impatient  of  inaction, 
forgot  their  late  escape,  and  set  out  without  us,  promising  to  wait 
our  arrival  at  Bent's  Fort.  From  thence  we  were  to  make  the  long 
journey  to  the  settlements  in  company,  as  the  path  was  not  a  little 
dangerous,  being  infested  by  hostile  Pawnees  and  Comanches. 

We  expected,  on  reaching  Bent's  Fort,  to  find  there  still  another 
re-enforcement.  A  young  Kentuckian  of  the  true  Kentucky  blood, 
generous,  impetuous,  and  a  gentleman  withal,  had  come  out  to  the 
mountains  with  Russel's  party  of  California  emigrants.  One  of  his 
:hief  objects,  as  he  gave  out,  was  to  kill  an  Indian;  an  exploit 
which  he  afterwards  succeeded  in  achieving,  much  to  the  jeopardy 
of  ourselves  and  others  who  had  to  pass  through  the  country  of 
the  dead  Pawnee's  enraged  relatives.  Having  become  disgusted 
with  his  emigrant  associates  he  left  them,  and  had  some  time  before 
set  out  with  a  party  of  companions  for  the  head  of  the  Arkansas. 
He  sent  us  previously  a  letter,  intimating  that  he  would  wait  until 
we  arrived  at  Bent's  Fort,  and  accompany  us  thence  to  the  settle- 
ments. When,  however,  he  came  to  the  Fort,  he  found  there  a  party 
of  forty  men  about  to  make  the  homeward  journey.  He  wisely  pre- 
ferred to  avail  himself  of  so  strong  an  escort.  Mr.  Sublette  and  his 
companions  also  set  out,  in  order  to  overtake  this  company ;  so  that 
on  reaching  Bent's  Fort,  some  six  weeks  after,  we  found  ourselves 
deserted  by  our  allies  and  thrown  once  more  upon  our  own  re- 
sources. 

But  I  am  anticipating.  When,  before  leaving  the  settlement  we 
had  made  inquiries  concerning  this  part  of  the  country  of  General 
Kearny,  Mr.  Mackenzie,  Captain  Wyeth,  and  others  well  ac- 
quainted with  it,  they  had  all  advised  us  by  no  means  to  attempt 
this  southward  journey  with  fewer  than  fifteen  or  twenty  men.  The 
danger  consists  in  the  chance  of  encountering  Indian  war  parties. 
Sometimes  throughout  the  whole  length  of  the  journey  (a  distance 
of  350  miles)  one  does  not  meet  a  single  human  being;  frequently, 
however,  the  route  is  beset  by  Arapahoes  and  other  unf '*iendly 
tribes;  in  which  case  the  scalp  of  the  adventurer  is  in  imminent 


il;i< 


,i  ■  '  .  Ill,  I  ir 


ill 


V   :ii*'^M 


.fc.il  I'M 


224 


The  Oregon  Trail 


F'l 


fit 


\ 


^^ 


r  ■• 


peril.  As  to  the  escort  of  fifteen  or  twenty  men,  such  a  force  of 
whites  could  at  that  time  scarcely  be  collected  by  the  whole  coun- 
try ;  and  had  the  case  been  otherwise,  the  expense  of  securing  them, 
together  with  the  necessary  number  of  horses,  would  have  been 
extremely  heavy.  We  had  resolved,  however,  upon  pursuing  this 
southward  course.  There  were,  indeed,  two  other  routes  from  Fort 
Laramie ;  but  both  of  these  were  less  interesting,  and  neither  was 
free  from  danger.  Being  unable  therefore  to  procure  the  fifteen  or 
twenty  men  recommended,  we  determined  to  set  out  with  those  we 
had  already  in  our  employ,  Henry  Chatillon,  Delorier,  and  Ray- 
mond. The  men  themselves  made  no  objection,  nor  would  they 
have  made  any  had  the  journey  been  more  dangerous ;  for  Henry 
was  without  fear,  and  the  other  two  without  thought. 

Shaw  and  I  were  much  better  fitted  for  this  mode  of  traveling 
than  we  had  been  on  betaking  ourselves  to  the  prairies  for  the  first 
time  a  few  months  before.  The  daily  routine  had  ceased  to  be  a 
novelty.  All  the  details  of  the  journey  and  the  camp  had  become 
familiar  to  us.  We  had  seen  life  under  a  new  aspect ;  the  human 
biped  had  been  reduced  to  his  primitive  condition.  We  had  lived 
without  law  to  protect,  a  roof  to  shelter,  or  garment  of  cloth  to 
cover  us.  One  of  us  at  least  had  been  without  bread,  and  without 
salt  to  season  his  food.  Our  idea  of  what  is  indispensable  to  human 
existence  and  enjoyment  Had  been  wonderfully  curtailed,  and  a 
horse,  a  rifle,  and  a  knife  seemed  to  make  up  the  whole  of  life's 
necessaries.  For  these  once  obtained,  together  with  the  skill  to  use 
them,  all  else  that  is  essential  would  follow  in  their  train,  and  a 
host  of  luxuries  besides.  One  other  lesson  our  short  prairie  experi- 
ence had  taught  us ;  that  of  profound  contentment  in  the  present, 
and  utter  contempt  for  what  the  future  might  bring  forth. 

These  principles  established,  we  prepared  to  leave  Fort  Laramie, 
On  the  fourth  day  of  August,  early  in  the  afternoon,  we  bade  a 
final  adieu  to  its  hospitable  gateway.  Again  Shaw  and  I  were  riding 
side  by  side  on  the  prairie.  For  the  first  fifty  miles  we  had  com- 
panions with  us;  Troche,  a  little  trapper,  and  Rouville,  a  non- 
descript in  the  employ  of  the  Fur  Company,  who  were  going  to 
join  the  trader  Bisonette  at  his  encampment  near  the  head  of  Horse 
Creek.  We  rode  only  six  or  eight  miles  that  afternoon  before  we 
Came  to  a  little  brook  traversing  the  barren  praine.  All  along  its 
course  grew  copses  of  young  wild-cherry  trees,  loaded  with  ripe 


The  Oregon  Trail 


225 


fruit,  and  almost  concealing  the  gliding  thread  of  water  with  their 
dense  growth,  while  on  each  side  rose  swells  of  rich  green  grass. 
Here  we  encamped ;  and  being  much  too  indolent  to  pitch  our  tent, 
we  flung  our  saddles  on  the  ground,  spread  a  pair  of  buffalo  robes, 
lay  down  upon  them,  and  began  to  smoke.  Meanwhile,  Delorier 
busied  himself  with  his  hissing  frying  pan,  and  Raymond  stood 
guard  over  the  band  of  grazing  horses.  DfilorierJiadjin  active  as-  .  t 
sistant^ia-Rouville,  whoprofessedj2xeat.§kill iaJthe.c2Iia?iry  ait,  '  ^ 
and  seizing  upon  aTofk,  began  to  lend  his  zealous  aid  in  making 
ready  supper.  Indeed,  according  to  his  own  belief,  Rouville  was  a 
man  of  universal  knowledge,  and  he  lost  no  opportunity  to  display 
his  manifold  accomplishments.  He  had  been  a  circus-rider  at  St. 
Louis,  and  once  he  rode  round  Fort  Laramie  on  his  head,  to  the 
utter  bewilderment  of  all  the  Indians.  He  was  also  noted  as  the  wit 
of  the  fort;  and  as  he  had  considerable  humor  and  abundant 
vivacity,  he  contributed  more  that  night  to  the  liveliness  of  the 
camp  than  all  the  rest  of  the  party  put  together.  At  one  instant  he 
would  be  kneeling  by  Delorier,  insructing  him  in  the  true  method 
of  frying  antelope  steaks,  then  he  would  come  and  seat  himself  at 
our  side,  dilating  upon  the  orthodox  fashion  of  braiding  up  a 
horse's  tail,  telling  apocryphal  storieshojy  he  had  killed  a  bufTalox  / 
bull  with  a  knife,  having  hrst  cut  ott  his  tail  when  at  full  speed,  or 
relating  whimsical  anecdotes  of  the  bourgeois  Papin,  At  last  he 
snatched  up  a  volume  of  Shakespeare  that  was  lying  on  the  grass, 
and  halted  and  stumbled  through  a  line  or  two  to  prove  that  he 
could  read.  He  went  gamboling  about  the  camp,  chattering  like 
some  f rolicksome  ape ;  and  whatever  he  was  doing  at  one  moment, 
the  presumption  was  a  sure  one  that  he  would  not  be  doing  it  the 
next.  His  companion  Troche  sat  silently  on  the  grass,  not  speak- 
ing a  word,  but  keeping  a  vigilant  eye  on  a  very  ugly  little  Utah 
squaw,  of  whom  he  was  extremely  jealous. 

On  the  next  day  we  traveled  farther,  crossing  the  wide  sterile 
basin  called  Goche's  Hole.  Toward  night  we  became  involved 
among  deep  ravines;  and  being  also  unable  to  find  water,  our 
journey  was  protracted  to  a  very  late  hour.  On  the  next  morning 
we  had  to  pass  a  long  line  of  fluffs,  whose  raw  sides,  wrought  upon 
by  rains  and  storms,  w6re  of  a  ghastly  whiteness  most  oppressive 
to  the  sight.  As  we  ascended  a  gap  in  these  hills,  the  way  was 
marked  by  huge  foot-prints,  like  those  of  a  human  giant.  They 


'ii.. 


■; 


.'•i  I 


'It 


1    I  •  ! 

MM 
I     j      1 


I 


I  1 


Mil-     ; 

\f::     1; 


1,:i 


i\.M' 


-ill! 


!-,.;k; 


226 


The  Oregon  Trail 


n  I U' ' 


"*t 


were  the  track  of  the  grizzly  bear ;  and  on  the  previoUvS  day  also  we 
liad  seen  abundance  of  them  along  the  dry  channe'ts  of  the  streams 
we  had  i>assed.  Imme(hately  after  this  we  were  crossing  a  barren 
plain,  spreading  in  long  and  gentle  undulations  to  the  horizon. 
Though  the  sun  was  bright,  there  was  a  light  haze  in  the  atmos- 
phere. The  distant  hills  avSsumed  strange,  distorted  forms,  and  the 
edge  of  the  horizon  was  continually  changing  its  aspect.  Shaw  and 
I  were  riding  together,  and  Henry  Chatillon  was  alone,  a  few  rods 
before  us ;  he  stop])ed  his  horse  suddenly,  and  turning  round  with 
the  peculiar  eager  and  earnest  expression  which  he  always  wore 
when  excited,  he  called  us  to  come  forward.  We  galloped  to  his 
side.  Henry  pointed  toward  a  black  speck  on  the  gray  swell  of  the 
prairie,  apparently  about  a  mile  otT.  "It  must  be  a  bear,"  said  he; 
"come,  now,  we  shall  all  have  some  sport.  Better  fun  to  tight  hitn 
than  to  light  an  old  bulTalo  bull ;  grizzly  bear  so  strong  and  smart." 

So  we  all  galloped  forward  together,  prepared  for  a  hard  fight ; 
for  these  bears,  though  clumsy  in  appearance  and  extremely  largo, 
are  incredibly  fierce  and  active.  The  swell  of  the  prairie  concealed 
the  black  object  from  our  view.  Immediately  after  it  appeared 
again.  But  now  it  seemed  quite  near  to  us ;  and  as  we  looked  at  it 
in  astonishment,  it  suddenly  separated  into  two  parts,  each  of  which 
took  wing  and  flew  away.  We  stopped  our  horses  and  looked  round 
at  Henry,  whose  face  exhibited  a  curious  mixture  of  mirth  and 
mortification.  His  hawk's  eye  had  been  so  completely  deceived  by 
the  peculiar  atmosphere  that  he  had  mistaken  two  large  crows  at 
the  distance  of  fifty  rods  for  a  grizzly  bear  a  mile  off.  To  the  jour- 
ney's end  Henry  never  heard  the  last  of  the  grizzly  bear  with  wings. 

In  the  afternoon  we  came  to  the  foot  of  a  considerable  hill.  As 
we  ascended  it  Rouville  began  to  ask  questions  concerning  our 
conditions  and  prospects  at  home,  and  Shaw  was  edifying  him  with 
a  minute  account  of  an  imaginary  wife  and  child,  to  which  he  lis- 
tened with  implicit  faith.  Reaching  the  top  of  the  hill  we  saw  the 
windings  of  Horse  Creek  on  the  plains  below  us,  and  a  little  on  the 
left  we  could  distinguish  the  camp  of  Bisonette  among  the  trees 
and  copses  along  the  course  of  the  stream.  Rouville's  face  assumed 
just  then  p  most  ludicrously  blank  expression.  We  inquired  what 
w^as  the  matter,  when  it  appeared  that  Bisonette  had  sent  him  from 
this  place  to  Fort  Laramie  with  the  sole  object  of  bringing  back  a 
supply  of  tobacco.  Our  rattlebrain  friend,  from  the  time  of  his 


The  Oregon  Trail 


227 


reaching  the  Fort  up  to  the  present  moment,  had  entirely  forgotten 
the  ohject  of  his  journey,  and  had  ridden  a  dangerous  hundred 
tiiiles  for  nothing.  Descending  to  Horse  Creek  we  forded  it,  and  on 
the  opposite  hank  a  solitary  Indian  sat  on  horseback  under  a  tree. 
lie  said  nothing,  hut  turned  and  led  the  way  toward  the  camp. 
Hisonette  had  made  choice  of  an  admirable  position.  The  stream, 
with  its  thick  growth  of  trees,  inclosed  on  three  sides  a  wide  green 
meadow,  where  about  forty  Dakota  lodges  were  pitched  in  a  circle, 
and  beyond  them  half  a  dozen  lodges  of  the  friendly  Cheyenne. 
Bisonette  himself  lived  in  the  Indian  manner.  Riding  up  to  his 
lodge,  we  found  him  seated  at  the  head  of  it,  surrounded  by  various 
appliances  of  comfort  not  common  on  the  prairie.  His  squaw  was 
near  him,  and  rosy  children  were  scrambling  about  in  printed- 
calico  gowns ;  Paul  Dorion  also,  with  his  leathery  face  and  old 
white  capote,  was  seated  in  the  lodge,  together  with  Antoine  Le 
Rouge,  a  half-breed  Pawnee,  Sibille,  a  trader,  and  several  other 
white  men. 

"It  will  do  you  no  harm,"  said  Bisonette,  "to  stay  here  with  us 
for  a  day  or  two,  before  you  start  for  the  Pueblo." 

We  accepted  the  invitation,  and  pitched  our  tent  on  a  rising 
ground  above  the  camp  and  close  to  the  edge  of  the  trees.  Bisonette 
soon  invited  us  to  a  feast,  and  we  suffered  abundance  of  the  same 
sort  of  attention  from  his  Indian  associates.  The  reader  may  pos- 
sibly recollect  that  when  I  joined  the  Indian  village,  beyond  the 
Black  Hills,  I  found  that  a  few  families  were  absent,  having  de- 
clined to  pass  the  mountains  along  with  the  rest.  The  Indians  in 
Bisonette's  camp  consisted  of  these  very  families,  and  many  of 
them  came  to  me  that  evening  to  inquire  after  their  relatives  and 
friends.  They  were  not  a  little  mortified  to  learn  that  while  they, 
{rem  their  own  timidity  and  indolence,  were  almost  in  a  starving 
condition,  the  rest  of  the  village  had  provided  their  lodges  for  the 
next  season,  laid  in  a  great  stock  of  provisions,  and  were  living  in 
abundance  and  luxury.  Bisonette's  companions  had  been  sustain- 
ing themselves  for  some  time  on  wild  cherries,  which  the  squaws 
pounded  up,  stones  and  all,  and  spread  on  buftalo  robes,  to  dry  in 
the  sun ;  they  were  then  eaten  without  further  preparation,  or  used 
as  an  ingredient  in  various  delectable  compounds. 

On  the  next  day  the  camp  was  in  connection  with  a  new  arrival. 
A  single  Indian  had  come  with  his  family  the  whole  way  from  the 


!  ■     1 


i:^ 


%i 


n; 


M'iih 


228 


The  Oregon  Trail 


Arkansas.  As  he  passed  among  the  lodges  he  put  on  an  expression 
of  unusual  dignity  and  importance,  and  gave  out  that  he  had 
brought  great  news  to  tell  the  whites.  Soon  after  the  squaws  had 
erected  his  lodge,  he  sent  his  little  son  to  invite  all  the  white  men, 
and  all  the  most  distinguished  Indians,  to  a  feast.  The  guests  ar- 
rived and  sat  wedged  together,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  within  the 
hot  and  suffocating  lodge.  The  Stabber,  for  that  was  our  enter- 
tainer's name,  had  killed  an  old  buffalo  bull  on  his  way.  This 
veteran's  boiled  tripe,  tougher  than  leather,  formed  the  main  item 
of  the  repast.  For  the  rest,  it  consisted  of  wild  cherries  and  grease 
boiled  together  in  a  large  coppe^  kettle.  The  feast  was  distributed, 
and  for  a  moment  all  was  silent,  strenuous  exertion ;  then  each 
guest,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  however,  turned  his  wooden 
dish  bottom  upward  to  prove  that  he  had  done  full  justice  to  his 
entertainer's  hospitality.  The  Stabber  next  produced  his  chopping 
board,  on  which  he  prepared  the  mixture  for  smoking,  and  filled 
several  pipes,  which  circulated  among  the  company.  This  done,  he 
seated  himself  upright  on  his  couch,  and  began  with  much  gesticu- 
lation to  tell  his  story.  I  will  not  repeat  his  childish  jargon.  It  was 
so  entangled,  like  the  greater  part  of  an  Indian's  stories,  with  ab- 
surd and  contradictory  details,  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  dis- 
engage from  it  a  single  particle  of  truth.  All  that  we  could  gather 
was  the  following : 

He  had  been  on  the  Arkansas,  and  there  he  had  seen  six  great 
war  parties  of  whites.  He  had  never  believed  before  that  the  whole 
world  contained  half  so  many  white  men.  They  all  had  large  horses, 
long  knives,  and  short  rifles,  and  some  of  them  were  attired  alike  in 
the  most  splendid  war  dresses  he  had  ever  seen.  Fr«"m  this  account 
it  was  clear  that  bodies  of  dragoons  and  perhaps  also  of  volunteer 
cavalry  had  been  passing  up  the  Arkansas.  The  Stabber  had  also 
seen  a  great  many  of  the  white  lodges  of  the  Meneaska,  drawn  by 
their  long-horned  buffalo.  These  could  be  nothing  else  than  cov- 
ered ox- wagons  used  no  doubt  in  transporting  stores  for  the  troops. 
Soon  after  seeing  this,  our  host  had  met  an  Indian  who  had  lately 
come  from  among  the  Comanches.  The  latter  had  told  him  that  all 
the  Mexicans  had  gone  out  to  a  great  buffalo  hunt.  That  the  Ameri- 
cans had  hid  themselves  in  a  ravine.  When  the  Mexicans  had  shot 
away  all  their  arrows,  the  Americans  had  fired  their  guns,  raised 
their  war-whoop,  rushed  out,  and  killed  them  all.  We  could  only 


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infer  from  this  that  war  had  been  declared  with  Mexico,  and  a 
battle  fought  in  which  the  Americans  were  victorious.  When,  some 
weeks  after,  we  arrived  at  the  Pueblo,  we  heard  of  General 
Kearny's  march  up  the  Arkansas  and  of  General  Taylor's  vic- 
tories at  Metamoras. 

As  the  sun  was  setting  that  evening  a  great  crowd  gathered  on 
the  plain  by  the  side  of  our  tent,  to  try  the  speed  of  their  horses. 
These  were  of  every  shape,  size,  and  color.  Some  came  from  Cali- 
fornia, some  from  the  States,  some  from  among  the  mour  jns, 
and  some  from  the  wild  bands  of  the  prairie.  They  were  of  every 
hue — white,  black,  red,  and  gray,  or  mottled  and  clouded  with  a 
strange  variety  of  colors.  They  all  had  a  wild  and  startled  look, 
very  different  from  the  staid  and  sober  aspect  of  a  well-bred  city 
steed.  Those  most  noted  for  swiftness  and  spirit  were  decorated 
with  eagle-feathers  dangling  from  their  manes  and  tails.  Fifty  or 
sixty  Dakotas  were  present,  wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  their 
heavy  robes  of  whitened  hide.  There  were  also  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  the  Cheyenne,  many  of  whom  wore  gaudy  Mexican  ponchos 
swathed  around  their  shoulders,  but  leaving  the  right  arm  bare. 
Mingled  among  the  crowd  of  Indians  were  a  number  of  Canadians, 
chiefly  in  the  employ  of  Bisonette ;  men,  whose  home  is  in  the 
wilderness,  and  who  love  the  camp  fire  better  than  the  domestic 
hearth.  They  are  contented  and  happy  in  the  midst  of  hardship, 
privation,  and  danger.  Their  cheerfulness  and  gayety  is  irrepres- 
sible, and  no  people  on  earth  understand  better  how  "to  daff  the 
world  aside  and  bid  itj^s."  Besides  these,  were  two  or  three  half-' 
breeds,  a  race'of  rather  extraordinary  composition,  being  according 
to  the  common  saying  half  Indian,  half  white  man,  and  half  devil. 
.A.ntoin'*  Le  Rouge  was  the  most  conspicuous  among  them,  with 
his  loose  pantaloons  and  his  fluttering  calico  skirt.  A  handkerchief 
was  bound  round  his  head  to  confine  his  biack  snaky  hair,  and  his 
small  eyes  twinkled  beneath  it,  with  a  mischievous  luster.  He  had 
a  fine  cream-colored  horse  whose  speed  he  must  needs  try  along 
with  the  rest.  So  he  threw  off  the  rude  high-peaked  saddle,  and 
substituting  a  piece  of  buffalo  robe,  leaped  lightly  into  his  seat. 
The  space  was  cleared,  the  word  was  given,  and  he  and  his  Indian 
rival  darted  out  like  lightning  from  among  the  crowd,  each  stretch- 
ing forward  over  his  horse's  neck  and  plying  his  heavy  Indian  whip 
with  might  and  main.  A  moment,  and  both  were  lost  in  the  gloom ; 


':i'l  :     i 


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U'   j 


but  Antoine  soon  came  riding  back  victorious,  exultingly  patting 
the  neck  of  his  quivering  and  panting  horse. 

About  midnight,  as  I  lay  asleep,  wrapped  in  a  buffalo  robe  on 
the  ground  by  the  side  of  our  cart,  Raymond  came  up  and  woke 
me.  Something  he  said,  was  going  forward  which  I  would  like  tj 
see.  Looking  down  into  camp  I  saw,  on  the  farther  side  of  it,  a 
great  number  of  Indians  gathered  around  a  fire,  the  bright  glare  uf 
which  made  them  visible  through  the  thick  darkness ;  while  from 
y  the  midst  of  them  proceeded  a  loud,  measured  chant  which  would 
jj  y  have  killed  paganini  niitriprht.  broken  occasionally  by  a  burst  of 
^  sharp  yells.  I  gathered  the  robe  around  me,  for  the  night  was  cold, 
*^  and  walked  down  to  the  spot.  The  dark  throng  of  Indians  was  so 
'^  dense  that  they  almost  intercepted  the  light  of  the  flame.  As  1  was 
pushing  among  them  with  but  little  ceremony,  a  chief  interposed 
himself,  and  I  was  given  to  understand  that  a  white  man  must  not 
approach  the  scene  of  their  solemnities  too  closely.  By  passing 
round  to  the  other  side,  where  there  was  a  little  opening  in  the 
crowd,  I  could  see  clearly  what  was  going  forward,  without  in- 
truding my  unhallowed  presence  into  the  inner  circle.  The  society 
of  the  "Strong  Hearts"  were  engaged  in  one  of  their  dances.  The 
Strong  Hearts  are  a  warlike  association,  comprising  men  of  both 
the  Dakota  and  Cheyenne  nations,  and  entirely  composed,  or  sup- 
posed to  be  so,  of  young  braves  of  the  highest  mettle.  Its  funda- 
mental principle  is  the  admirable  one  of  never  retreating  from  any 
enterprise  once  commenced.  All  these  Indian  associations  have  a 
tutelarvjpirit.  That  of  the  Strong  Hearts  is  embodied  in  the  fox, 
airammal  which  a  white  man  would  hardly  have  selected  for  a 
similar  purpose,  though  his  subtle  and  cautious  character  agrees 
well  enough  with  an  Indian's  notions  of  what  is  honorable  in  war- 
ware.  The  dancers  were  circling  round  and  round  the  fire,  each 
figure  brightly  illumined  at  one  moment  by  the  yellow  light,  and 
at  the  next  drawn  in  blackest  shadow  as  it  passed  between  the 
flame  and  the  spectator.  They  would  imitate  with  the  most  ludicrous 
exactness  the  motions  and  the  voice  of  their  sly  patron  the  fox. 
Then  a  startling  yell  would  be  given.  Many  other  warriors  would 
leap  into  the  ring,  and  with  faces  upturned  toward  the  starless  sky, 
they  would  all  stamp,  and  whoop,  and  brandish  their  weapons  like 
so  many  frantic  devils. 

Until  the  next  afternoon  we  were  still  remaining  with  Bisonette. 


A 


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h  Bisonette. 


My  companion  and  I  with  our  three  attendants  then  left  his  camp 
for  "he  Pueblo,  a  distance  of  three  hundred  miles,  and  we  sup- 
posed the  journey  would  occupy  about  a  fortnight.  During  this 
time  we  all  earnestly  hoped  that  we  might  not  meet  a  single  human 
being,  for  should  we  encounter  any,  they  would  in  all  probability 
be  enemies,  ferocious  robbers  and  murderers,  in  whose  eyes  our 
rifles  would  be  our  only  passports.  For  the  first  two  days  nothing 
worth  mentioning  took  place.  On  the  third  morning,  however,  an 
untoward  incident  occurred.  We  were  encamped  by  the  side  of  a 
little  brook  in  an  extensive  hollow  of  the  plain.  Delorier  was  up 
long  before  daylight,  and  before  he  began  to  prepare  breakfast  he 
turned  loose  all  the  horses,  as  in  duty  bound.  There  was  a  cold  mist 
clinging  close  to  the  ground,  and  by  the  time  the  rest  of  us  were 
awake  the  animals  were  invisible.  It  was  only  after  a  long  and 
anxious  search  that  we  could  discover  by  their  tracks  the  direction 
they  had  taken.  They  had  all  set  oflf  for  Fort  Laramie,  following 
the  guidance  of  a  mutinous  old  mule,  and  though  many  of  them 
were  hobbled  they  had  driven  three  miles  before  they  could  be 
overtaken  and  driven  back. 

For  the  following  two  or  three  days  we  were  passing  over  an 
arid  desert.  The  only  vegetation  was  a  few  tufts  of  short  grass, 
dried  and  shriveled  by  the  heat.  There  was  an  abundance  of  strange 
insects  and  reptiles.  Huge  crickets,  black  and  bottle  green,  and 
wingless  grasshoppers  of  the  most  extravagant  dimensions,  were 
tumbling  about  our  horses'  feet,  and  lizards  without  numbers  were 
darting  like  lightning  among  the  tufts  of  grass.  The  most  curious 
animal,  however,  was  that  commonly  called  the  horned  frogJ^V 
caught  one  of  them  and  consigned  him  to  the  care  of  Delorier, 
who  tied  him  up  in  a  moccasin.  About  a  month  after  this  I  examined 
the  prisoner's  condition,  and  finding  him  still  lively  and  active,  I 
provided  him  with  a  cage  of  buffalo  hide,  which  was  hung  up  in 
the  cart.  In  this  manner  he  arrived  safely  at  the  settlements.  From 
thence  he  traveled  the  whole  way  to  Boston  packed  closely  in  a 
trunk,  being  regaled  with  fresh  air  regularly  every  night.  When 
he  reached  his  destination  he  was  deposited  under  a  glass  case, 
where  he  sat  for  some  months  in  great  tranquillity  and  composure, 
alternately  dilating  and  contracting  his  white  throat  to  the  admira- 
tion of  his  visitors.  At  length,  one  morning,  about  the  middle  of 
winter,  he  gave  up  the  ghost.  His  death  was  attributed  to  starva- 


"-,1;.        ( 


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E'    !■    ' 


tion,  a  very  probable  conclusion,  since  for  six  months  he  had  taken 
no  food  whatever,  though  the  sympathy  of  his  juvenile  admirers 
had  tempted  his  palate  with  a  great  variety  of  delicacies.  We  found 
also  animals  of  a  somewhat  larger  growth.  The  number  of  prairie 

y  do^s  was  absolutely  astounding.  Frequently  the  hard  and  dry 
-^  pFairlc  vvolIt(rT)e  tfiiHT<tyi55vere'd,  for  many  miles  together,  with  the 
little  mounds  which  they  make  around  the  mouth  of  their  burrows, 
and  small  squeaking  voices  yelping  at  us  as  we  passed  along.  The 
noses  of  the  inhabitants  would  be  just  visible  at  the  mouth  of  their 
holes,  but  no  sooner  was  their  curiosity  satisfied  than  they  woukl 
instantly  vanish.  Some  of  the  bolder  dogs — though  in  fact  they  arc 

y  no  dogs  at  all,  but  little  marmots  rather  smaller  than  a  rabbit- 
would  sit  yelping  at  us  on  the  top  of  their  mounds,  jerking  their 
tails  emphatically  with  every  shrill  cry  they  uttered.  As  the  danger 
grew  nearer  they  would  wheel  about,  toss  their  heels  into  the  air, 
and  dive  in  a  twinkling  down  into  their  burrows.  Toward  sunset, 
and  especially  if  rain  were  threatening,  the  whole  community 
would  make  their  appearance  above  ground.  We  would  see  them 
gathered  in  large  knots  around  the  burrow  of  some  favorite  citizen. 
There  they  would  all  sit  erect,  their  tails  spread  out  on  the  ground, 
and  their  paws  hanging  down  before  their  white  breasts,  chattering 
and  squeaking  with  the  utmost  vivacity  upon  some  topic  of  com- 
mon interest,  while  the  proprietor  of  the  burrow,  with  his  head  just 
visible  on  the  top  of  his  mound,  would  sit  looking  down  with  a 
complacent  countenance  on  the  enjoyment  of  his  guests.  Mean- 
while, others  would  be  running  about  from  burrow  to  burrow, 
as  if  on  some  errand  of  the  last  importance  to  their  subterranean 
commonwealth.  The  snakes  are  apparently  the  prairie  dog's  worst 
enemies,  at  least  I  think  too  well  of  the  latter  to  suppose  that  they 
associate  on  friendly  terms  with  these  slimy  intruders,  who  may 
be  seen  at  all  times  basking  among  their  holes,  into  which  they  al- 
ways retreat  when  disturbed.  Small  owls,  with  wise  and  grave 
countenances,  also  make  their  abode  with  the  prairie  dogs,  though 
on  what  terms  they  live  together  I  could  never  ascertain.  The  man- 
ners and  customs,  the  political  and  domestic  economy  of  these  little 
marmots  is  worthy  of  closer  attention  than  one  is  able  to  give  when 
pushing  by  forced  marches  through  their  country,  with  his  thoughts 
engrossed  by  objects  of  greater  moment. 

On  the  fifth  day  after  leaving  Bisonette's  camp  we  saw  late  in 


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the  afternoon  what  we  supposed  to  be  a  considerable  stream,  but 
(111  our  approaching  it  we  found  to  our  mortification  nothinj^  but  a 
dry  bed  of  sand  into  which  all  the  water  had  sunk  and  disappeared. 
We  separated,  some  riding  in  one  direction  and  some  in  another 
along  its  course.  Still  we  found  no  traces  of  water,  not  even  so 
much  as  a  wet  spot  in  the  sand.  The  old  Cottonwood  trees  that 
grew  along  the  bank,  lamentably  abused  by  lightning  and  tempest, 
were  withering  with  the  drought,  and  on  the  dead  limbs,  at  the 
summit  of  the  tallest,  half  a  dozen  crows  were  hoarsely  cawing 
like  birds  of  evil  omen  as  they  were.  We  had  no  alternative  but  to 
keep  on.  There  was  no  water  nearer  than  the  South  Fork  of  the 
Platte,  about  ten  miles  distant.  We  moved  forward,  angry  and 
silent,  over  a  desert  as  flat  as  the  outspread  ocean. 

The  sky  had  been  obscured  since  the  morning  by  thin  mists  and 
vapors,  but  now  vast  piles  of  clouds  were  gathered  together  in  the 
west.  They  rose  to  a  great  height  above  the  horizon,  and  looking  up 
toward  them  I  distinguished  one  mass  darker  than  the  rest  and  of 
a  peculiar  conical  form.  I  happt  led  to  look  again  and  still  could 
sec  it  as  before.  At  some  moments  it  was  dimly  seen,  at  others  its 
outline  was  sharp  and  distinct ;  but  while  the  clouds  around  it  were 
shifting,  changing,  and  dissolving  away,  it  still  towered  aloft  in 
the  midst  of  them,  fixed  and  immovable.  It  must,  thcught  I,  be  the 
summit  of  a  mountain,  and  yet  its  heights  staggered  me.  My  con- 
clusion was  right,  however.  It  was  Long's  Peak,  once  believed  to  V 
be  one  of  the  highest  of  the  Rocky'Mountain  chain,  though  more 
recent  discoveries  have  proved  the  contrary.  The  thickening  gloom 
soon  hid  it  from  view  and  we  never  saw  it  again,  for  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  and  for  some  time  after,  the  air  was  so  full  of  mist 
that  the  view  of  distant  objects  was  entirely  intercepted. 

It  grew  very  late.  Turning  from  our  direct  course  we  made  for 
the  river  at  its  nearest  point,  though  in  the  utter  darkness  it  was 
not  easy  to  direct  our  way  with  much  precision.  Raymond  rode  on 
one  side  and  Henry  on  the  other.  We  could  hear  each  of  them 
shouting  that  he  had  come  upon  a  deep  ravine.  We  steered  at  ran- 
dom between  Scylla  and  Charybdis,  and  soon  after  became,  as  it 
seemed,  inextricably  involved  with  deep  chasms  all  around  us, 
while  the  darkness  was  such  that  we  could  not  see  a  rod  in  any 
direction.  We  partially  extricated  ourselves  by  scrambling,  cart  and 
all,  through  a  shallow  ravine.  We  came  next  to  a  steep  descent 


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down  which  we  plunged  without  well  knowing  what  was  at  the 
bottom.  There  was  a  great  crackling  of  sticks  and  dry  twigs.  Over 
our  heads  were  certain  large  fhadowy  objects,  and  in  front  some- 
thing like  the  faint  gleaminf,  of  a  dark  sheet  of  water.  Raymond 
ran  his  horse  against  a  tree;  Henry  alighted,  and  feeling  on  the 
ground  declared  that  there  was  grass  enough  for  the  horses.  Be- 
fore taking  off  his  saddle  each  man  led  his  own  horses  down  to  the 
water  in  the  best  way  he  could.  Then  picketing  two  or  three  of  the 
evil-disposed  we  turned  the  rest  loose  and  lay  down  among  the 
dry  sticks  to  sleep.  In  ihe  morning  we  found  ourselves  close  to  the 
South  Fork  of  the  Platte  on  a  spot  surrounded  by  bushes  and  rank 
grass.  Compensating  ourselves  with  a  hearty  breakfast  for  the  ill 
fare  of  the  previous  night,  we  set  forward  again  on  our  journey. 
When  only  two  or  three  rods  from  the  camp  I  saw  Shaw  stop  his 
mule,  level  his  gun,  and  after  a  long  aim  fire  at  some  object  in  the 
grass.  Delorier  next  jumped  forward  and  began  to  dance  ab  At,  be- 
laboring the  unseen  enemy  with  a  whip    Then  he  stooped  down 
and  drew  out  of  the  grass  by  the  neck  an  enormous  rattlesnake, 
with  his  head  completely  shattered  by  Shaw's  bullet.  As  Delorier 
held  him  out  at  arm's  length  with  an  exulting  grin  his  tail,  which 
still  kept  slowly  writhing  about,  alriost  touched  the  ground,  and 
the  body  in  the  largest  part  was  as  thick  as  a  stout  man's  arm.  He 
had  fourteen  rattles,  but  the  end  of  his  tail  was  blunted,  as  if  he 
could  once  have  boasted  of  many  more.  From  this  time  till  we 
reached  the  I  aeblo  we  killed  at  least  four  or  five  of  these  snakes 
every  day  as  they  lay  coiled  and  rattling  on  the  hot  sand.  Shaw 
was  the  St.  Patrick  of  the  party,  and  whenever  he  or  any  one  tlse 
killed  a  snake  he  always  pulled  oflf  his  tail  and  stored  it  away  in  his 
builet-pouch,  which  was  soon  crammed  with  an  edifying  collection 
of  rattles,  great  and  .-^mall.  Delorier,  with  his  whip,  also  came  in 
for  a  share  of  the  praise.  A  day  or  two  after  this  he  triumphantly 
produced  a  small  snakj^about  a  span  and  a  half  long,  with  one  in- 
fant rattle  at  the  end  of  his  taTfT" "^ 

We  forded  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte.  On  its  farther  bank 
were  the  traces  of  a  very  large  camp  of  Arapahoes.  The  ashes  of 
some  three  hundred  fires  were  visible  among  the  scattered  trees, 
together  with  the  remains  of  sweating  lodges,  and  all  the  other 
appurtenances  of  a  permanent  camp.  The  place  however  had  been 
for  some  months  deserted.  A  few  miles  farther  on  we  found  more 


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The  Oregon  Trail 


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recent  signs  of  Indians ;  the  trail  of  two  c*  three  lodges,  which  had 
evidently  passed  the  day  before,  where  every  foot-print  was  per- 
fectly distinct  in  the  dry,  dusty  soil.  We  noticed  in  particular  the 
track  of  one  moccasin,  upon  the  sole  of  which  its  economical  pro- 
prietor had  placed  a  large  patch.  These  signs  gave  us  but  little 
uneasiness,  as  the  number  of  the  warriors  scarcely  exceeded  that 
of  our  own  party.  At  noon  we  rested  under  the  walls  of  a  large 
fort,  built  in  these  solitudes:  some  years  since  by  M.  St.  Vrain.  It 
was  now  abandoned  and  fast  falling  into  ruin.  The  walls  of  unbaked 
bricks  were  cracked  from  top  to  bottom.  Our  horses  recoiled  in 
terror  from  the  neglected  entrance,  where  the  heavy  gates  were 
torn  from  their  hinges  and  flung  down.  The  area  within  was  over- 
grown with  weeds,  and  the  long  ranges  of  apartments,  once  oc- 
cupied by  the  motley  concourse  of  traders,  Canadians,  and  squaws, 
were  now  miserably  dilapidated.  Twelve  miles  further  on,  near  the 
spot  where  we  encamped,  were  the  remains  of  still  another  fort, 
standing  in  melancholy  desertion  and  neglect. 

Early  on  the  following  morning  we  made  a  startling  discovery. 
We  passed  close  by  a  large  deserted  encampment  of  Arapahoes. 
There  were  about  fifty  fires  still  smouldering  on  the  ground,  and  it 
was  evident  from  numerous  signs  that  the  Indians  must  have  left 
the  place  within  two  hours  of  our  reaching  it.  Their  trail  crossed 
our  own  at  right  angles,  and  led  in  the  direction  of  a  line  of  hills 
half  a  mile  on  our  left.  There  were  women  and  children  in  the 
I  party,  which  would  have  greatly  diminished  the  danger  of  en- 
countering them.  Henry  Chatillon  examined  the  encampment  and 
I  the  trail  with  a  very  professional  and  businesslike  air. 

"Supposing  we  had  met  them,  Henry  ?"  said  I. 

"Why,"  said  he,  "we  hold  out  our  hands  to  them,  and  give  them 
I  all  we've  got ;  they  take  away  everything,  and  then  I  believe  they 
I  no  kill  us.  Perhaps,"  added  he,  looking  up  with  a  quiet,  unchanged 
face,  "perhaps  we  no  let  them  rob  ur.  Maybe  before  they  come  near, 
we  have  a  chance  to  get  into  a  ravine,  or  under  the  bank  of  the 
I  river ;  then,  you  know,  we  fight  them." 

About  noon  on  that  day  we  reached  Cherry  Creek.  Here  was  a 
I  great  abundance  of  wild  cherries,  plums,  gooseberries,  and  cur- 
rants. The  stream,  however,  like  most  of  the  others  which  we 
passed,  was  dried  up  with  the  heat,  and  we  had  to  dig  holes  in  the 
sand  to  find  water  for  oujselves  an  J  our  horses.  Two  days  after, 


'Vii 


236 


The  Oregon  Trail 


(  '■< 


ht- 


we  left  the  banks  of  the  creek  which  we  had  been  following  for 
some  time,  and  begain  to  cross  the  high  dividing  ridge  which  sepa- 
rates the  waters  of  the  Platte  from  those  of  the  Arkansas.  The 
scenery  was  altogether  changed.  In  place  of  the  burning  plains  we 
were  passing  now  through  rough  and  savage  glens  and  among  hills 
crowned  with  a  dreary  growth  of  pines.  We  encamped  among  these 
solitudes  on  the  night  of  the  i6th  of  August.  A  tempest  was  threat- 
ening. The  sun  went  down  amon;^  volumes  of  jet-black  cloud,  edged 
with  a  bkiody  red.  But  in  spite  of  these  portentous  signs,  we 
neglected  to  put  up  the  tent,  and  being  extremely  fatigued,  lay 
down  on  the  ground  and  fell  asleep.  The  stoi  m  broke  about  mid- 
night, and  we  erected  the  tent  amid  darkness  and  confusion.  In 
the  morning  all  was  fair  again,  and  Pikers  Peak,  white  with  snow, 
was  towering  above  the  wilderness  a  lar  ott.      ^ 

We  pushed  through  an  extensive  tract  of  pine  woods.  Large 
black  squirrels  were  leaping  among  the  branches.  From  the  farther 
edge  of  this  forest  we  saw  the  prairie  again,  hollowed  out  before 
us  into  a  vast  basin,  and  about  a  mile  in  front  we  could  discern  a 
little  black  speck  moving  upon  its  surface.  It  could  be  nothing  but 
a  buffalo.  Henry  primed  his  rifle  afresh  and  galloped  forward.  To  i 
the  left  of  the  animal  was  a  low  rocky  mound,  of  which  Henr^  j 
availed  himself  in  making  his  approach.  After  a  short  time  we 
heard  the  faint  report  of  the  rifle.  The  bull,  mortally  wounded  from 
a  distance  of  nearly  three  hundred  yards,  ran  wildly  round  and 
round  in  a  circle.  Shaw  and  I  then  galloped  forward,  and  passing] 
him  as  he  ran,  foaming  with  rage  and  pain,  we  discharged  our  pis- 
tols into  his  side.  Once  or  twice  he  rushed  furiously  upon  us,  but! 
his  strength  was  rapidly  exhausted.  Down  he  fell  on  his  knees.  For 
one  instant  he  glared  up  at  his  enemies  with  burning  eyes  through 
his  black  tangled  mane,  and  then  rolled  over  on  his  side.  Though 
gaunt  and  thin,  he  was  larger  and  heavier  than  the  largest  ox.  Foam 
and  blood  flew  together  from  his  nostrils  as  he  lay  bellowing  and 
pawing  the  ground,  tearing  up  grass  and  earth  with  his  hoofs.  His 
sides  rose  and  fell  like  a  vast  pair  of  bellows,  the  blood  spouting  up 
in  jets  from  the  bullet-holes.  Suddenly  his  glaring  eyes  became  like  a 
lifeless  jelly.  He  lay  motionless  on  the  ground.  Henry  stooped  over 
him,  and  making  an  incision  with  his  knife,  pronounced  the  meat 
too  rank  and  tough  for  use ;  so,  disappointed  in  our  hopes  of  an  ad- 


The  Oregon  Trail 


237 


dition  to  our  stock  of  provisions,  we  rode  away  and  left  the  carcass 
to  the  wolves. 

In  the  afternoon  we  saw  the  mountains  rising  like  a  gigantic  wall 
at  no  great  distance  on  our  right.  "Des  sauvages!  des  sauvages!" 
exclaimed  Delorier,  looking  round  with  a  frightened  face,  and 
pointing  with  his  whip  toward  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  In  fact, 
we  could  see  at  a  distance  a  number  of  little  black  specks,  like 
horsemen  in  rapid  motion.  Henry  Chatillon,  with  Shaw  and  myself, 
galloped  toward  them  to  reconnoiter,  when  to  our  amusement  we 
saw  the  supposed  Arapahoes  resolved  into  the  black  tops  of  some 
pine  tices  which  grew  along  a  ravine.  The  summits  of  these  pines, 
just  visible  above  the  verge  of  the  prairie,  and  seeming  to  move  as 
we  ourselves  were  advancing,  looked  exactly  like  a  line  of  horsemen. 

We  encamped  among  ravines  and  hollows,  through  which  a  little 
brook  was  foaming  angrily.  Before  sunrise  in  the  morning  the 
snow-covered  mountains  were  beautifully  tinged  with  a  delicate 
rose  color.  A  noble  spectacle  awaited  us  as  we  moved  forward.  Six 
or  eight  miles  on  our  right.  Pike's  Peak  and  his  giant  brethren 
rose  out  of  the  level  prairie,  as  if  springing  from  the  bed  of  the 
ocean.  From  their  summits  down  to  the  plain  below  they  were  in- 
volved in  a  mantle  of  clouds,  in  restless  motion,  as  if  urged  by 
strong  winds.  For  one  instant  some  snowy  peak,  towering  in  awful 
solitude,  would  be  disclosed  to  view.  As  the  clouds  broke  along  the 
mountain,  we  could  see  the  dreary  forests,  the  tremendous  preci- 
pices, the  white  patches  of  snow,  the  gulfs  and  chasms  as  black  as 
night,  all  revealed  for  an  instant,  and  then  disappearing  from  the 
I  view.  One  could  not  but  recall  the  stanza  of  "Childe  Harold": 

Morn  dawns,  and  with  it  stem  Albania's  hills, 

Dark  SuWs  rocks,  and  Pindus'  inland  peak, 

Robed  half  in  mist,  bedewed  with  snowy  rills, 

Array'd  in  many  a  dun  and  piirple  streak, 

Arise;  and,  as  the  clouds  along  them  break. 

Disclose  the  dwelling  of  the  mountaineer: 

Here  roams  the  wolf,  the  eagle  whets  his  beak. 

Birds,  beasts  of  prey,  and  wilder  men  appear. 

And  gathering  storms  around  convulse  the  closing  year. 

Every  line  save  one  of  this  description  was  more  than  verified 


»i. 


238 


The  Oregon  Trail 


here.  There  were  no  "dwellings  of  the  mountaineer"  among  these 
heights.  Fierce  savages,  restlessly  wandering  through  summer  and! 
winter,  alone  invade  them.  "Their  hand  is  against  every  man,  and! 
every  man's  hand  against  them." 

On  the  day  after  we  had  left  the  mountains  at  some  distance.  aI 
black  cloud  descepded  upon  them,  and  a  tremendous  explosion  ofl 
thunder  followed,  reverberating  among  the  precipices.  In  a  few! 
moments  everything  gre\jr  black  and  the  rain  poured  down  like  al 
cataract.  We  got  under  an  old  cotton-wood  tree  which  stood  by  the! 
side  of  a  stream,  and  waited  there  till  the  rage  of  the  torrent  had! 
passed. 

The  clouds  opened  at  the  point  where  they  first  had  gathered,! 
and  the  whole  sublime  congregation  of  mountains  was  bathed  atl 
once  in  warm  sunshine.  They  seemed  more  like  some  luxuriousl 
vision  of  Eastern  romance  than  like  a  reality  of  that  wilderness ;  alll 
were  melted  together  into  a  soft  delicious  blue,  as  voluptuous  as  thel 
sky  of  Naples  or  the  transparent  sea  that  washes  the  sunny  cliffs 
%.'  of  Capri.  On  the  left  the  whole  sky  was  still  of  an  inky  blackness;! 
j;^  \J  but  two  concentric  rainbows  stood  in  brilliant  relief  against  it,  while 
far  in  front  the  ragged  cloud  still  streamed  before  the  wind,  and] 
the  retreating  thunder  muttered  angrily. 

Through  that  afternoon  and  the  next  morning  we  were  passing] 
down  the  banks  of  the  stream  called  La  Fontaine  qui  Bouille,  fromj 
the  boiling  spring  whose  waters  flow  into  it.  When  we  stopped  atl 
noon,  we  were  within  six  or  eight  miles  of  the  Pueblo.  Setting  out! 
again,  we  found  by  the  fresh  tracks  that  a  horseman  had  just  been] 
out  to  reconnoiter  us ;  he  had  circled  half  round  the  camp,  and  then! 
galloped  back  full  speed  for  the  Pueblo.  What  made  him  so  shy  off 
us  we  could  not  conceive.  After  an  hour's  ride  we  reached  the  edge! 
of  a  hill,  from  which  a  welcome  sight  greeted  us.  The  Arkansas! 
ran  along  the  valley  below,  among  woods  and  groves,  and  closely  I 
"nestled  in  the  midst  of  wide  cornfields  and  green  meadows  where] 
cattle  were  grazing  rose  the  low  mud  walls  of  the  Pueblo. 


The  Oregon  Trail 


239 


Chapter  XXI 
THE  PUEBLO  AND  BENT'S  FORT 

We  approached  the  gate  of  the  Pueblo.  It  was  a  wretched  species 
of  fort  of  most  primitive  construction,  being  nothing  more  than  a 
large  square  inclosure,  surrounded  by  a  wall  of  mud,  miserably 
cracked  and  dilapidated.  The  slender  pickets  that  surmounted  it 
were  half  broken  down,  and  the  gate  dangled  on  its  wooden  hinges 
so  loosely,  that  to  open  or  shut  it  seemed  likely  to  fling  it  down 
altogether.  Two  or  three  squalid  Mexicans,  with  their  broad  hats, 
and  their  vile  faces  overgrown  with  hair,  were  lounging  about  the 
bank  of  the  river  in  front  of  it.  They  disappeared  as  they  saw  us 
approach ;  and  as  we  rode  up  to  the  gate  a  light  active  little  figure 
came  out  to  meet  us.  It  was  our  old  friend  Richard.  He  had  come 
from  Fort  Laramie  on  a  trading  expedition  to  Taos ;  but  finding, 
when  he  reached  the  Pueblo,  that  the  war  would  prevent  his  going 
farther,  he  was  quietly  waiting  till  the  conquest  of  the  country 
should  allow  him  to  proceed.  He  seemed  to  consider  himself  bound 
to  do  the  honors  of  the  place.  Shaking  us  warmly  by  the  hands,  he 
led  the  way  into  the  area. 

Here  we  saw  his  large  Sante  Fe  wagons  standing  together.  A 
few  squaws  and  Spanish  women,  and  a  few  Mexicans,  as  mean  and 
miserable  as  the  place  itself,  were  lazily  sauntering  about,  Richard 
conducted  us  to  the  state  apartment  of  the  Pueblo,  a  small  mud 
room,  very  neatly  finished,  considering  the  material,  and  garnished 
with  a  crucifix,  a  looking-glass,  a  picture  of  the  Virgin,  and  a  rusty 
horse  pistol.  There  were  no  chairs,  but  instead  of  them  a  number 
of  chests  and  boxes  ranged  about  the  room.  There  was  another 
room  beyond,  less  sumptuously  decorated,  and  here  three  or  four 
Spanish  girls,  one  of  them  very  pretty,  were  baking  cakes  at  a  mud 
fireplace  in  the  corner.  They  brought  out  aponcho,  which  they 
spread  upon  the  floor  by  way  of  table-cloth.  A  supper,  which 
seemed  to  us  luxurious,  was  soon  laid  out  upon  it,  and  folded 
buffalo  robes  were  placed  around  it  to  receive  the  guests.  Two  or 
three  Americans,  besides  ourselves,  were  present.  We  sat  down 
Turkish  fashion,  and  began  to  inquire  the  news.  Richard  told  us 
that,  ajjout  three  weeks  before.  General  Kearny's  army^'had  left 

7/  ./y -v  /. 


Z&^V^.     Ayy^  Jj    ^M--^ 


// 


j^^t 


< 


y 


f' 


lli' 

1 

M  '  ' 

1 

1, 

f .  i  1 

1  ;.'. 

m 

:: 

m 

1  i 

B|.:; 

K|  . 

H^  ' 

B\ 

1 

/ 


240 


The  Oregon  Trail 


Bent's  Fort  to  march  against  Santa  Fe ;  that  when  last  heard  from 
they  were  approaching  the  mountainous  defiles  that  led  to  the  city. 
One  of  the  Americans  produced  a  dingy  newspaper,  containing  an 
account  of  the  battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la  Palma.  While 
we  were  discussing  these  matters,  the  doorway  was  darkened  by  a 
tall,  shambling  fellow,  who  stood  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
taking  a  leisurely  survey  of  the  premises  before  he  entered.  He 
wore  brown  homespun  pantaloons,  much  too  short  for  his  legs,  and 
a  pistol  and  bowie  knife  stuck  in  his  belt.  His  head  and  one  eye 
were  enveloped  in  a  huge  bandage  of  white  linen.  Having  com- 
pleted his  observations,  he  came  slouching  in  and  sat  down  on  a 
chest.  Eight  or  ten  more  of  the  same  stamp  followed,  and  very 
coolly  arranging  themselves  about  the  room,  began  to  stare  at  the 
company.  Shaw  and  I  looked  at  each  other.  We  were  forcibly  re- 
minded of  the  Oregon  emigrants,  though  these  unwelcome  visitors 
had  a  certain  glitter  of  the  eye,  and  a  compression  of  the  lips,  which 
distinguished  them  from  our  old  acquaintances  of  the  prairie.  They 
began  to  catechise  us  at  once,  inquiring  whence  we  had  come,  what 
we  meant  To^Honext,  and  what  were  our  future  prospects  in  life. 

The  man  with  the  bandaged  head  had  met  with  an  untoward  ac- 
cident a  few  days  before.  He  was  going  down  to  the  river  to  bring 
water,  and  was  pushing  through  the  young  willows  which  covered 
the  low  ground,  when  he  came  unawares  upon  a  grizzly  bear,  which, 
having  just  eaten  a  buffalo  bull,  had  lain  down  to  sleep  off  the 
meal.  The  bear  rose  on  his  hind  legs,  and  gave  the  intruder  such 
a  blow  with  his  paw  that  he  laid  his  forehead  entirely  bare,  clawed 
off  the  front  of  his  scalp,  and  narrowly  missed  one  of  his  eyes.  For- 
tunately he  was  not  in  a  very  pugnacious  mood,  being  surfeited  with 
his  late  meal.  The  man's  companions,  who  were  close  behind,  raised 
a  shout  and  the  bear  walked  away,  crushing  down  the  willows  in 
his  leisurely  retreat. 

These  men  belonged  to  a  party  of  Mormons,  who,  out  of  a  well- 
grounded  fear  of  the  other  emigrants,  had  postponed  leaving  the 
settlements  until  all  the  rest  were  gone.  On  account  of  this  delay 
they  did  not  reach  Fort  Laramie  until  it  was  too  late  to  continue 
their  journey  to  California.  Hearing  that  there  was  good  land  at 
the  head  of  the  Arkansas,  they  crossed  over  under  the  guidance  of 
Richard,  and  were  now  preparing  to  spend  the  winter  at  a  spot 
about  half  a  mile  from  the  Pueblo. 


hi 


The  Oregon  Trail 


241 


When  we  took  leave  of  Richard,  it  was  near  sunset.  Passing  out 
of  the  gate,  we  could  look  down  the  little  valley  of  the  Arkansas ;  a 
beautiful  scene,  and  doubly  so  to  our  eyes,  so  long  accustomed  to 
deserts  and  mountains.  Tall  woods  lined  the  river,  with  green 
meadows  on  either  hand;  and  high  blufYs,  quietly  basking  in  the 
sunlight,  flanked  the  narrow  valley.  A  Mexican  on  horseback  was 
driving  a  herd  of  cattle  toward  the  gate,  and  our  little  white  tent, 
which  the  men  had  pitched  under  a  large  tree  in  the  meadow,  made 
a  very  pleasing  feature  in  the  scene.  When  we  reached  it,  we  found 
that  Richard  had  sent  a  Mexican  to  bring  us  an  abundant  supply 
of  green  corn  and  vegetables,  and  invite  us  to  help  ourselves  to 
whatever  we  wished  from  the  fields  around  the  Pueblo. 

The  inhabitants  were  in  daily  apprehensions  of  an  inroad  from 
more  formidable  consumers  than  ourselves.  Every  year  at  the  time 
when  the  corn  begins  to  ripen,  the  Arapahoes,  to  the  number  of 
several  thousands,  come  and  encamp  around  the  Pueblo.  The 
handful  of  white  men,  who  are  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  this  swarm 
of  barbarians,  choose  to  make  a  merit  of  necessity ;  they  come 
forward  very  cordially,  shake  them  by  the  hand,  and  intimate  that 
the  harvest  is  entirely  at  their  disposal.  The  Arapahoes  take  them 
ai  their  word,  help  themselves  most  liberally,  and  usually  turn 
their  horses  into  the  cornfields  afterward.  They  have  the  foresight, 
however,  to  leave  enough  of  the  crops  untouched  to  serve  as  an  in- 
ducement for  planting  the  fields  again  for  their  benefit  in  the  next 
spring. 

The  human  race  in  this  part  of  the  world  is  separated  into  three 
'divisions,  arranged  in  the  order  of  their  merits;  white  men,  In- 
dians, and  Mexicans ;  to  the  latter  of  whop  the  honorable  title  of 
"whites"  is  by  no  means  conceded.  /    /  ' 

In  spite  of  the  warm  sunset  of  that' evening  the  next  morning 
was  a  dreary  and  cheerless  one.  It  rained  steadily,  clouds  resting 
upon  the  very  treetops.  We  crossed  the  river  to  visit  the  Mormon 
settlement.  As  we  passed  through  the  water,  several  trappers  on 
horseback  entered  it  from  the  other  side.  Their  buckskin  frocks 
were  soaked  through  by  the  rain,  and  clung  fast  to  their  limbs  with 
a  most  clammy  and  uncomfortable  look.  The  water  was  trickling 
down  their  faces,  and  dropping  from  the  ends  of  their  rifles,  and 
from  the  traps  which  each  carried  at  the  pommel  of  his  saddle. 
Horses  and  all,  they  had  a  most  disconsolate  and  woebegone  ap- 


H' 


w 


t 


242 


The  Oregon  Trail 


pearance,  which  we  could  not  helping  laughing  at,  forgetting  how 
often  we  ourselves  had  been  in  a  similar  plight. 

After  half  an  hour's  riding  we  saw  the  white  wagons  of  the 
Mormons  drawn  up  among  the  trees.  Axes  were  sounding,  trees 
were  falling,  and  log-huts  going  up  along  the  edge  of  the  woods 
and  upon  the  adjoining  meadow.  As  we  came  up  the  Mormons  left 
their  work  and  seated  themselves  on  the  timber  around  us,  when 
they  began  earnestly  to  discuss  points  of  theology,  complain  of  the 
ill-usage  they  had  received  from  the  "Gentiles,"  and  sound  a  lamen- 
tation over  the  loss  of  their  great  temple  at  Nauvoo.  After  remain- 
ing with  them  an  hour  we  rode  back  to  our  camp,  happy  that  the 
settlements  had  been  delivered  from  the  presence  of  such  blind  and 
desperate  fanatics. 

On  the  mornin;T  after  this  we  left  the  Pueblo  for  Bent's  Fort. 
The  conduct  of  Raymord  had  lately  been  less  satisfactory  than  be- 
fore, and  we  had  discharged  him  as  soon  as  we  arrived  at  the 
former  place ;  so  that  the  party,  ourselves  included,  was  now  re- 
duced to  four.  There  was  some  uncertainty  as  to  our  future  course. 
The  trail  between  Bent's  Fort  and  the  settlements,  a  distance  com- 
puttd  at  six  hundred  miles,  was  at  this  time  in  a  dangerous  state ; 
for  since  the  passage  of  General  Kearny's  army,  great  numbers  of 
hostile  Tndianp,  chiefly  Pawnees  and  Comanches,  had  gathered 
about  some  parts  of  it.  A  little  after  this  time  they  became  so 
numerous  and  audacious,  that  scarcely  a  single  party,  however 
large,  passed  between  the  fort  and  the  frontier  without  some  token 
of  their  hospitality.  The  newspapers  of  the  time  sufficiently  dis- 
play this  state  of  things.  Many  men  were  killed,  and  great  numbers 
of  horses  and  mules  carried  off.  Not  long  since  I  met  with  the 
gentleman,  who,  during  the  autumn,  came  from  Santa  f"  e  to  Bent's 
Fort,  when  he  found  a  party  of  seventy  men,  who  thought  then- 
selves  too  weak  to  go  down  to  the  settlements  alone,  and  were  wait- 
ing there  for  a  re-enforcement.  Though  this  excessive  timidity 
fully  proves  the  ignorance  and  credulity  of  the  men,  it  may  also 
evince  the  state  of  alarm  which  prevailed  in  the  country.  >Vhen 
wc  were  there  in  the  month  of  Ai^gusc,  the  danger  had  not  become 
so  great.  There  was  nothing  very  attractive  in  the  neighborhood. 
We  supposed,  moreover,  that  wc  mjght  v  lit  there  half  the  winter 
without  finding  any  party  to  go  down  with  us;  for  Mr.  Sublette 
and  the  others  whom  we  bad  relied  upon  had,  as  Richard  told  us, 


The  Oregon  Trail 


243 


already  left  Bent's  Fort.  Thus  far  on  our  journey  Fortune  had 
kindly  befriended  us.  We  resolved  therefore  to  take  advantage  of 
her  gracious  mood  and  trusting  for  a  continuance  of  her  favors,  to 
set  out  with  Henry  and  Delorier,  and  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  In- 
dians in  the  best  way  we  could. 

Bent's  Fort  stands  on  the  river,  about  seventy-five  miles  below 
the  Pueblo,  At  noon  of  the  third  day  we  arrived  within  three  or 
four  miles  of  it,  pitched  our  tent  under  a  tree,  hung  our  looking- 
glasses  against  its  trunk  and  having  made  our  primitive  toilet,  rode 
toward  the  fort.  We  soon  came  in  sight  of  it,  for  it  is  visible  from  a 
considerable  distance,  standing  with  its  high  clay  walls  in  the  midst 
of  the  scorching  plains.  It  seem.'^d  as  if  a  swarm  of  locusts  had  in- 
vaded the  country.  The  grass  for  miles  around  was  cropped  close 
by  the  horses  of  General  Kearny's  soldiery.  When  we  came  to  the 
fort,  we  found  that  not  only  had  the  horses  eaten  up  the  grass, 
but  their  owners  had  made  away  with  the  stores  of  the  little  trading 
post ;  so  that  we  had  great  difficulty  in  procuring  the  few  articles 
which  we  required  for  our  homeward  journey.  The  army  was 
^one,  the  life  and  bustle  passed  away,  and  the  fort  was  a  scene  of 
dull  and  lazy  tranquillity.  A  few  invalid  officers  and  soldiers 
sauntered  about  the  area,  which  was  oppressively  hot;  for  the 
glaring  sun  was  reflected  down  upon  it  from  the  high  white  walls 
around.  The  proprietors  were  absent,  and  we  were  received  by  Mr. 
Holt,  who  had  been  left  in  charge  of  the  fort.  He  invited  us  to 
dinner,  where,  to  our  admiration,  we  found  a  table  laid  with  a 
white  cloth,  with  castors  in  the  center  and  chairs  placed  around  it. 
This  unwonted  repast  concluded,  we  rode  back  to  our  camp. 

Here,  as  we  lay  smoking  round  the  fire  after  supper,  we  saw 
through  the  dusk  three  men  approaching  from  the  direction  of  the 
fort.  They  rode  up  and  seated  themselves  near  us  on  the  ground. 
The  foremost  was  a  tall,  well-formed  man,  with  a  face  and  man- 
|ner  such  as  inspire  confidence  at  once.  He  wore  a  broad  hat  of  felt, 
slouching  and  tattered,  and  the  rest  of  his  attire  consisted  of  a  frock 
|anfi  leggings  of  buckskin,  rubbed  with  the  yellow  clay  found  among 
I  the  mountains.  At  the  heel  of  one  of  his  moccasins  was  buckled 

huge  iron  spur,  with  a  rov,'el  five  or  six  inches  in  diameter.  His 
I  horse,  who  stood  quietly  looking  over  his  head,  had  a  rude  Mexican 
I  saddle,  covered  with  a  shafgy  bearskin,  and  furnished  with  a  pair 
I  of  wooden  stirrups  of  most  preposterous  size.  The  next  man  was, a 


\ 


\ 


^ 


r.     -»' 


I  -I 


244 


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■  '  'J  I..  .Uy.  ' 


sprightly,  active  little  fellow,  about  five  feet  and  a  quarter  high, 
but  very  strong  and  compact.  His  face  was  swarthy  as  a  Mexi- 
can's and  covered  with  a  close,  curly  black  beard.  An  old  greasy 
calico  handkerchief  was  tied  round  his  head,  and  his  close  buckskin 
dress  was  blackened  and  polished  by  grease  and  hard  service.  The 
last  who  came  up  was  a  large  strong  man,  dressed  in  the  coarse 
homespun  of  the  frontiers,  who  dragged  his  long  limbs  over  the 
ground  as  if  he  were  too  lazy  for  the  effort.  He  had  a  sleepy  gray 
eye,  a  retreating  chin,  an  open  mouth  and  a  protruding  upper  Hp, 
which  gave  him  an  a  of  exquisite  indolence  and  helplessness.  He 
was  armed  with  an  old  United  States  yager,  which  redoubtable 
weapon,  though  he  could  never  hit  his  mark  with  it,  he  was  ac- 
customed to  cherish  as  the  very  sovereign  of  firearms. 

The  first  two  men  belonged  to  a  party  who  had  just  come  from 
California  with  a  large  band  of  horses,  which  they  had  disposed 
of  at  Bent's  Fort.  Munroe,  the  taller  of  the  two,  was  from  Iowa. 
He  was  an  excellent  fellow,  open,  warm-hearted,  and  intelligent. 
Jim  Gurney,  the  short  man,  was  a  Boston  sailor,  who  had  come  in 
a  trading  vessel  to  California,  and  taken  the  fancy  to  return  across 
the  continent.  The  journey  had  already  made  him  an  expert 
"mountain-man,"  and  he  presented  the  extraordinary  phenomenon 
of  a  sailor  who  understood  how  to  manage  a  horse.  The  third  of 
our  visitors  named  Ellis,  was  a  Missourian,  who  had  come  out 
with  a  party  of  Oregon  emigrants,  but  having  got  as  far  as  Bridge's 
Fort,  he  had  fallen  home-sick,  or  as  Jim  averred,  love-sick — and 
Ellis  was  just  the  man  to  be  balked  in  a  love  adventure.  He  thought 
proper  to  join  the  California  men  and  return  homeward  in  their 
company. 

They  now  requested  that  they  might  unite  with  our  party,  and 
make  the  journey  to  the  settlements  in  compan}^  with  us.  We  readily 
assented,  for  we  liked  the  appearance  of  the  first  two  men,  and 
were  very  glad  to  gain  so  efficient  a  re-enforcement.  We  told  them 
to  meet  us  on  the  next  evening  at  a  spot  on  the  river  side,  about, 
six  miles  below  the  fort.  Having  smoked  a  pipe  together,  our  new 
allies  left  us,  and  we  lay  down  to  sleep.  I 


iri:-^'^ 


Thejp Oregon  Trail 


245 


Chapter  XXII 
TETE  ROUGE,  THE  VOLUNTEER 

The  next  morning,  having  directed  Delorier  to  repair  with  his 
cart  to  the  place  of  meeting,  we  came  again  to  the  fort  to  make 
some  arrangements  for  the  journey.  After  completing  these  we  sat 
down  under  a  sort  of  perch,  to  smoke  with  some  Cheyenne  Indians 
whom  we  found  there.  In  a  few  minutes  we  saw  an  extraordinary 
little  figure  approach  us  in  a  military  dress.  He  had  a  small,  round 
countenance,  garnished  about  the  eyes  with  the  kind  of  wrinkles 
commonly  known  as  crow's  feet  and  surrounded  by  an  abundant 
crop  of  red  curls,  with  a  little  cap  resting  on  the  top  of  them.  Al- 
together, he  had  the  look  of  a  man  more  conversant  with  mint 
juleps  and  oyster  suppers  than  with  the  hardships  of  prairie  service. 
He  came  up  to  us  and  entreated  that  we  would  take  him  home  to 
the  settlements,  saying  that  unless  he  went  with  us  he  should  have 
to  say  all  winter  at  the  fort.  We  liked  our  petitioner's  appearance 
so  little  that  we  excused  ourselves  from  complying  with  his  request. 
At  this  he  begged  us  so  hard  to  tak<»  pity  on  him,  looked  so  dis- 
consolate, and  told  so  lamentable  a  story  that  at  last  we  consented, 
though  not  without  many  misgivings. 

The  rugged  Anglo-Saxon  of  our  new  recruit's  real  name  proved 
utterly  unmanageable  on  the  lips  of  our  French  attendants,  and 
Henry  Chatillon,  after  various  abortive  attempts  to  pronounce  it, 
one  day  coolly  christened  him  T4te  Rouge,  in  honor  of  his  red  curls. 
He  had  at  different  times  been  clerk  of  a  Mississippi  steamboat, 
and  agent  in  a  trading  establishment  at  Nauvoo,  besides  filling 
various  other  capacities,  in  all  of  which  he  had  seen  much  more 
of  "life"  than  was  good  for  him.  In  the  spring,  thinking  that  a 
summer's  campaign  would  be  an  agreeable  recreation,  he  had 
joined  a  company  of  St.  Louis  volunteers. 

"There  were  three  of  us,"  said  Tete  Rouge,  "me  and  Bill  Stevens 
and  John  Hopkins.  We  thought  we  would  just  go  out  with  the 
army,  and  when  we  had  conquered  the  country,  we  would  get  dis- 
charged and  take  our  pay,  you  know,  and  go  down  to  Mexico. 
They  say  there  is  plenty  of  fun  going  on  there.  Then  we  could  go 
back  to  New  Orleans  by  way  of  Vera  Cruz." 


246 


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■'  I 


i 


But  Tete  Rouge,  like  many  a  stouter  volunteer,  had  reckoned 
without  his  host.  Fighting  Mexicans  was  a  less  amusing  occupa- 
tion  than  he  had  supposed,  and  his  pleasure  trip  was  disagreeably 
interrupted  by  brain  fever,  which  attacked  him  when  about  half- 
way to  Bent's  Fort.  He  jolted  along  through  the  rest  of  the  jour- 
ney in  a  baggage  wagon.  When  they  came  to  the  fort  he  was  taken 
out  and  left  there,  together  with  the  rest  of  the  sick.  Bent's  Fort 
does  not  supply  the  best  accommodations  for  an  invalid.  Tete 
Rouge's  sick  chamber  was  a  little  mud  room,  where  he  and  a 
companion  attacked  by  the  same  disease  were  laid  together,  with 
nothing  but  a  buffalo  robe  between  them  and  the  ground.  The  as- 
sistant surgeon's  deputy  visited  them  once  a  day  and  brought  them 
each  a  huge  dose  of  calomel,  the  only  medicine,  according  to  his 
surviving  victim,  which  he  was  acquainted  with. 

Tete  Rouge  woke  one  morning,  and  turning  to  his  companion, 
saw  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  beams  above  with  the  glassy  stare  of  a 
dead  man.  At  this  the  unfortunate  volunteer  lost  his  senses  out- 
right. In  spite  of  the  doctor,  however,  he  eventually  recovered; 
though  between  the  brain  fever  and  the  calomel,  his  mind,  originally 
none  of  the  strongest,  was  so  much  shaken  that  it  had  not  (juite 
recovered  its  balance  when  we  came  to  the  fort.  In  spite  of  the  poor 
fellow's  tragic  story,  there  was  something  so  ludicrous  in  his  ap- 
pearance, and  the  whimsical  contrast  between  his  military  dress  and 
his  most  unmilitary  demeanor,  that  we  could  not  help  smiling  at 
them.  We  asked  him  if  he  had  a  gun.  He  said  they  had  taken  it 
from  him  during  his  illness,  and  he  had  not  seen  it  since ;  "but 
perhaps,"  he  observed,  looking  at  me  with  a  beseeching  air,  "you 
will  lend  me  one  of  your  big  pistols  if  we  should  meet  with  any 
Indians."  I  next  inquired  if  he  had  a  horse;  he  declared  he  had  a 
magnificent  one,  and  at  Shaw's  request  a  Mexican  led  him  in  for 
inspection.  He  exhibited  the  outline  of  a  good  horse,  but  his  eyes| 
were  sunk  in  the  sockets,  and  every  one  of  his  ribs  could  be 
counted.  There  were  certain  marks  too  about  his  shoulders,  which] 
could  be  accounted  for  by  the  circumstance,  that  during  Tetei 
Rouge's  illness,  his  companions  had  seized  upon  the  insulted 
charger,  and  harnessed  him  to  a  cannon  along  with  the  draft  horses. 
To  Tete  Rouge's  astonishment  we  recommended  him  by  all  means 
to  exchange  the  horse,  if  he  could,  for  a  mule.  Fortunately  the 
people  at  the  fort  were  so  anxious  to  get  rid  of  him  that  they  were 


The  Oregon  Trail 


247 


bad  reckoned 


willing  to  make  some  sacrifice  to  effect  the  object,  and  he  succeeded 
in  petting  a  tolerable  mule  in  exchange  for  the  broken-down  steed. 

A  man  soon  appeared  at  the  gate,  leading  in  the  mule  by  a  cord 
which  he  placed  in  the  hands  of  Tete  Rouge,  who,  being  some- 
what afraid  of  his  new  acquisition,  tried  various  flatteries  and 
blansjishments  to  induce  her  to  come  forward.  The  mule,  knowing 
that  she  was  expected  to  advance,  stopped  short  in  consequence, 
and  stood  fast  as  a  rock,  looking  straight  forward  with  immovable 
composure.  Being  stimulated  by  a  blow  from  behind  she  consented 
to  move,  and  walked  nearly  to  the  other  side  of  the  fort  before 
she  stopped  again.  Hearing  the  by-standers  laugh,  Tete  Rouge 
plucked  up  spirit  and  tugged  hard  at  the  rope.  The  mule  jerked 
backward,  spun  herself  round,  and  made  a  dash  for  the  gate.  Tete 
Rouge,  who  clung  manfully  to  the  rope,  went  whisking  through 
the  air  for  a  few  rods,  when  he  let  go  and  stood  with  his  mouth 
open,  staring  after  the  mule,  who  galloped  away  over  the  prairie. 
She  was  soon  caught  and  brought  back  by  a  Mexican,  who  mounted 
a  horse  and  went  in  pursuit  of  her  with  his  lasso. 

Having  thus  displayed  his  capacities  for  prairie  traveling,  Tete 
proceeded  to  supply  himself  with  provisions  for  the  journey,  and 
with  this  view  he  applied  to  a  quartermaster's  assistant  who  was  in 
the  fort.  This  official  had  a  face  as  sour  as  vinegar,  being  in  a  state 
of  chronic  indignation  because  he  had  been  left  behind  the  army. 
He  was  as  anxious  as  the  rest  to  get  rid  of  Tete  Rouge.  So,  produc- 
ing a  rusty  key,  he  opened  a  low  door  which  led  to  a  half -subterra- 
nean apartment,  into  which  the  two  disappeared  together.  After 
some  time  they  came  out  again,  Tete  Rouge  greatly  embarrassed 
by  a  multiplicity  of  paper  parcels  containing  the  different  articles  of 
his  forty  days'  rations.  They  were  consigned  to  the  care  of  Delorier, 
who  about  that  time  passed  by  with  the  cart  on  his  way  to  the  ap- 
pointed place  of  meeting  with  Munroe  and  his  companions. 

We  next  urged  Tete  Rouge  to  provide  himself,  if  he  could,  with 
a  gun.  He  accordingly  made  earnest  appeals  to  the  charity  of  va- 
rious persons  in  the  fort,  but  totally  without  success,  a  circumstance 
which  did  not  greatly  disturb  us,  since  in  the  event  of  a  skirmish 
I  he  would  be  much  more  apt  to  do  mischief  to  himself  or  his  friends 
I  than  to  the  enemy.  When  all  these  arrangements  were  completed 
we  saddled  our  horses  and  were  preparing  to  leave  the  fort,  when 
looking  round  we  discovered  that  our  new  associate  was  in  fresh 


248 


The  Oregon  Trail 


!fV.'i/J   1  , 


■mi 


trouble.  A  man  was  holding  the  mule  for  him  in  the  middle  of  the 
fort,  while  he  tried  to  put  the  saddle  on  her  back,  but  she  kept 
stepping  sideways  and  moving  round  and  round  in  a  circle  until  he 
was  almost  in  despair.  It  required  some  assistance  before  all  his 
difficulties  could  be  overcome.  At  length  he  clambered  into  the  black 
war  saddle  on  which  he  was  to  have  carried  terror  into  the  ranks 
of  the  Mtxicans. 

**Get  up,"  said  Tete  Rouge,  "come  now,  go  along,  will  you." 
The  mule  walked  deliberately  forward  out  of  the  gate.  Her  recent. 
conduct  had  inspired  him  with  so  much  awe  that  he  never  dared 
to  touch  her  with  his  whip.  We  trotted  forward  toward  the  place  of 
meeting,  but  before  he  had  gone  far  we  saw  that  Tete  Rouge's 
mule,  who  perfectly  understood  her  rider,  had  stopped  and  was 
quietly  grazing,  in  spite  of  his  protestations,  at  some  distance  be- 
hind. So  getting  behind  him,  we  drove  him  and  the  contumacious 
mule  before  us,  until  we  could  see  through  the  twilight  the  gleam- 
ing of  a  distant  fire.  Munroe,  Jim,  and  Ellis  were  lying  around  it ; 
their  saddles,  packs,  and  weapons  were  scattered  about  and  their 
horses  picketed  near  them.  Delorier  was  there  too  with  our  little 
cart.  Another  fire  was  soon  blazing  high.  We  invited  our  new  allies 
to  take  a  cup  of  coflFee  with  us.  When  both  the  others  had  gone 
over  to  their  side  of  the  camp,  Tim  Gumey  still  stood  by  the  blaze, 
puffing  hard  at  his  little  black  pipe,  as  short  and  weather-beaten  as 
himself. 

"Well !"  he  said,  "here  are  eight  of  us ;  we'll  call  it  six — for  them 
two  boobies,  Ellis  over  yonder,  and  that  new  man  of  yours,  won't 
count  for  anything.  We'll  get  through  well  enough,  never  fear  for 
thnt,  unless  the  Comanches  happen  to  get  foul  of  us." 


Chapter  XXIII 
INDIAN  ALARMS 


We  began  our  journey  for  the  frontier  settlements  on  the  27th  of 
August,  and  certainly  a  more  ragamuffin  cavalcade  never  was  seen| 
on  the  banks  of  the  Upper  Arkansas.  Of  the  large  and  fine  horses 
with  which  we  had  left  the  frontier  in  the  spring,  not  one  remained; 


The  Oregon  Trail 


249 


we  had  supplied  their  place  with  the  rough  breed  of  the  prairie,  as 
hardy  as  mules  and  almost  as  ugly ;  we  had  also  with  us  a  number 
of  the  latter  detestable  animals.  In  spite  of  their  strength  and  hardi- 
hood, several  of  the  band  were  already  worn  down  by  hard  service 
and  hard  fare,  and  as  none  of  them  were  shod,  they  were  fast  be- 
coming foot-sore.  Every  horse  and  mule  had  a  cord  of  twisted 
bull-hide  coiled  around  his  neck,  which  by  no  means  added  to  the 
beauty  of  his  appearance.  Our  saddles  and  all  our  equipments  were 
by  this  time  lamentably  worn  and  battered,  and  our  weapons  had 
become  dull  and  rusty.  The  dress  of  the  riders  fully  corresponded 
with  the  dilapidated  furniture  of  our  horses,  and  of  the  whole  party 
none  made  a  more  disreputable  appearance  than  my  friend  and  I. 
Shaw  had  for  an  upper  garment  an  old  red  flannel  shirt,  flying  open 
in  front  and  belted  around  him  like  a  frock ;  while  I,  in  absence  of 
other  clothing,  was  attired  in  a  time-worn  suit  of  leather. 

Thus,  happy  and  careless  as  so  many  beggars,  wc  crept  slowly 
from  day  to  day  along  the  monotonous  banks  of  the  Arkansas.  Tete 
Rouge  gave  constant  trouble,  for  he  could  never  catch  his  mule, 
saddle  her,  or  indeed  do  anything  else  without  assistance.  Every 
day  he  had  some  new  ailment,  real  or  imaginary,  to  complain  of. 
At  one  moment  he  would  be  woebegone  and  disconsolate,  and  the 
next  he  would  be  visited  with  a  violent  flow  of  spirits,  to  which 
he  could  only  give  vent  by  incessant  laughing,  whistling,  and  telling 
stories.  When  other  resources  failed,  we  used  to  amuse  ourselves 
by  tormenting  him ;  a  fair  compensation  for  the  trouble  he  cost  us. 
Tete  Rouge  rather  enjoyed  being  laughed  at,  for  he  was  an  odd 
compound  of  weakness,  eccentricity,  and  good-nature.  He  made  a 
figure  worthy  of  a  painter  as  he  paced  along  before  us,  perched  on 
the  back  of  his  mule,  and  enveloped  in  a  huge  buflFalo-robe  coat, 
which  some  charitable  person  had  given  him  at  the  fort.  This 
extraordinary  garment,  which  would  have  contained  two  men  of 
his  size,  he  chose,  for  some  reason  best  known  to  himself,  to  wear 
inside  out,  and  he  never  took  it  off,  even  in  the  hottest  weather.  It 
was  fluttering  all  over  with  seams  and  tatters,  and  the  hide  was  so 
old  and  rotten  that  it  broke  out  every  day  in  a  new  place.  Just  at 
the  top  of  it  a  large  pile  of  red  curls  was  visible,  with  his  little 
cap  set  jauntily  upon  one  side,  to  give  him  a  military  air.  His  seat 
in  the  saddle  was  no  less  remarkable  than  his  person  and  equip- 
ment. He  pressed  one  leg  close  against  his  mule's  side,  and  thrust 


i-i 


250 


The  Oregon  Trail 


1 


1?^ 


\V'i  ' 


i 


']!■ 


m  J 


!    «■ 


R--* ' 


id 


the  other  out  at  an  angle  of  45  degrees.  His  pantaloons  were  dec- 
orated with  a  military  red  stripe,  of  which  he  was  extremely  vain ; 
but  being  much  too  short,  the  whole  length  of  his  boots  was  usually 
visible  below  them.  His  blanket,  loosely  rolled  up  into  a  large 
bundle,  dangled  a:  the  back  of  his  saddle,  where  he  carried  it  tied 
with  a  string.  Four  or  five  times  a  day  it  would  fall  to  the  ground. 
Every  few  minutes  he  would  drop  his  pipe,  his  knife,  his  flint  and 
steel,  or  a  piece  of  tobacco,  and  have  to  scramble  down  to  pick 
them  up.  In  doing  this  he  would  contrive  to  get  in  everybody's  way ; 
and  as  the  most  of  the  party  were  by  no  means  remarkable  for  a 
"^fastidious  choice  of  language,  a  storm  of  anathemas  would  be 
sllUWtied  upon  him,  half  in  earnest  and  half  in  jest,  until  Tete 
Rouge  would  declare  that  there  was  no  comfort  in  life,  and  that 
he  never  saw  such  fellows  before. 

Only  a  day  or  two  after  leaving  Bent's  Fort  Henry  Chatillon 
rode  forward  to  hunt,  and  took  Ellis  along  with  him.  After  they 
had  been  some  time  absent  we  saw  them  coming  down  the  hill, 
driving  three  dragoon-horses,  which  had  escaped  from  their  owners 
on  the  march,  or  perhaps  had  given  out  and  been  abandoned.  One 
of  them  was  in  tolerable  condition,  but  the  others  were  much 
emaciated  and  severely  bitten  by  the  wolves.  Reduced  as  they  were 
we  carried  two  of  them  to  the  settlements,  and  Henry  exchanged 
the  third  with  the  Arapahoes  for  an  excellent  mule. 

On  the  day  after,  when  we  had  stopped  to  rest  at  noon,  a  long 
train  of  Santa  Fe  wagons  came  up  and  trailed  slowly  past  us  in 
their  picturesque  procession.  They  belonged  to  a  trader  named  j 
Magoffin,  whose  brother,  with  a  number  of  other  men,  came  overj 
and  sat  down  around  us  on  the  grass.  The  news  they  brought  was 
not  of  the  most  pleasing  complexion.  According  to  their  accounts,] 
the  trail  below  was  in  a  very  dangerous  state.  They  had  repeatedly 
detected  Indians  prowling  at  night  around  their  camps ;  and  the 
large  party  which  had  left  Bent's  Fort  a  few  weeks  previous  to 
our  own  departure  had  been  attacked,  and  a  mai?  named  Swan, 
from  Massachusetts,  had  been  killed.  His  companions  had  buried] 
the  body ;  but  when  Magoffin  found  his  grave,  which  was  near  al 
place  called  the  Caches,  the  Indians  had  dug  up  and  scalped  him,| 
and  the  wolves  had  shockingly  mangled  his  remains.  As  an  offset 
to  this  intelligence,  they  gave  us  the  welcome  information  that  the 
buffalo  were  numerous  at  a  few  days'  journey  below. 


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On  the  next  afternoon,  as  we  moved  along  the  bank  of  the  river, 
we  saw  the  white  tops  of  wagons  on  the  horizon.  It  was  some 
hours  before  we  met  them,  when  they  proved  to  be  a  train  of 
clumsy  ox-wagons,  quite  different  from  the  rakish  vehicles  of  the 
Santa  Fe  traders,  and  loaded  with  government  stores  for  the  troops. 
They  all  stopped,  and  the  drivers  gathered  around  us  in  a  crowd. 
I  thought  that  the  whole  frontier  might  have  been  ransacked  in 
vain  to  furnish  men  worse  fitted  to  meet  the  dangers  of  the  prairie. 
Many  of  them  were  mere  boys,  fresh  from  the  plow,  and  devoid 
of  knowledge  and  experience.  In  respect  to  the  state  of  the  trail, 
they  confirmed  all  that  the  Santa  Fe  men  had  told  us.  In  passing 
between  the  Pawnee  Fork  and  the  Caches,  their  sentinels  had  fired 
every  night  at  real  or  imaginary  Indians.  They  said  also  that  Ewing, 
a  young  Kentuckian  in  the  party  that  had  gone  down  before  us, 
had  shot  an  Indian  who  was  prowling  at  evening  about  the  camp. 
Some  of  them  advised  us  to  turn  back,  and  others  to  hasten  forward 
as  fast  as  we  could ;  but  they  all  seemed  in  such  a  state  of  feverish 
anxiety,  and  so  little  capable  of  cool  judgment,  that  we  attached 
slight  weight  to  what  they  said.  They  next  gave  us  a  more  definite 
piece  of  intelligence;  a  large  village  of  Arapahoes  was  encamped 
on  the  river  below.  They  represented  them  to  be  quite  friendly; 
but  some  distinction  was  to  be  made  between  a  party  of  thirty 
men,  traveling  with  oxen,  which  are  of  no  value  in  an  Indian's 
eyes  and  a  mere  handful  like  ourselves,  with  a  tempting  band  of 
mules  and  horses.  This  story  of  the  Arapahoes  therefore  caused 
us  some  anxiety. 

Just  after  leaving  the  government  wagons,  as  Shaw  and  I  were 
riding  along  a  narrow  passage  between  the  river  bank  and  a  rough 
hill  that  pressed  close  upon  it,  we  heard  Tete  Rouge's  voice  behind 
us.  "Hallo !'*  he  called  out;  "I  say,  stop  the  cart  just  for  a  minute, 
will  you?" 

"What's  the  matter,  Tete?"  asked  Shaw,  as  he  came  riding  up 
to  us  with  a  grin  of  exultation.  He  had  a  bottle  of  molasses  in  one 
hand,  and  a  large  bundle  of  hides  on  the  saddle  before  him,  con- 
taining, as  he  triumphantly  informed  us,  sugar,  biscuits,  coffee, 
and  rice.  These  suppHes  he  had  obtained  by  a  stratagem  on  which 
he  greatly  plumed  himself,  and  he  was  extremely  vexed  and  aston- 
ished that  we  did  not  fall  in  with  his  views  of  the  matter.  He  had 
told  Coates,  the  master -wagoner,  that  the  commissary  at  the  fort 


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if.^^ 


had  given  him  an  order  for  sick-rations,  directed  to  the  master  of 
any  government  train  which  he  might  meet  upon  the  road.  This 
order  he  had  unfortunately  lost,  but  he  hoped  that  the  rations  would 
not  be  refused  on  that  account,  as  he  was  suffering  from  coarse 
fare  and  needed  them  very  much.  As  soon  as  he  came  to  camp  that 
night  Tete  Rouge  repaired  to  the  box  at  the  back  of  the  cart,  where 
Delorier  used  to  keep  his  culinary  apparatus,  took  possession  of  a 
saucepan,  and  after  building  a  little  fire  of  his  own,  set  to  work 
preparing  a  meal  out  of  his  ill-gotten  booty.  This  done,  he  seized 
on  a  tin  plate  and  spoon,  and  sat  down  under  the  cart  to  regale  him- 
self. His  preliminary  repast  did  not  at  all  prejudice  his  subsequent 
exertions  at  supper ;  where,  in  spite  of  his  miniature  dimensions,  he 
made  a  better  figure  than  any  of  us.  Indeed,  about  this  time  his 
appetite  grew  quite  voracious.  He  began  to  thrive  wonderfully.  His 
small  body  visibly  expanded,  and  his  cheeks,  which  when  we  first 
/  took  him  were  rather  yellow  and  cadaverous,  now  dilated  in  a 
wonderful  manner,  and  became  rudSyin  proportion.  Tete  Rouge, 
in  short,  began  to  appear  like  another  man. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  looking  along  the  edge 
of  the  horizon  in  front,  we  saw  that  at  one  point  it  was  faintly 
marked  with  pale  indentations,  like  the  teeth  of  a  saw.  The  lodges 
of  the  Arapahoes,  rising  between  us  and  the  sky,  caused  this 
singular  appearance.  It  wanted  still  two  or  three  hours  of  sunset 
when  we  came  opposite  their  camp.  There  were  full  two  hundred 
lodges  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  grassy  meadow  at  some  distance 
beyond  the  river,  while  for  a  mile  around  and  on  either  bank  of 
the  Arkansas  were  scattered  some  fifteen  hundred  horses  and 
mules  grazing  together  in  bands,  or  wandering  singly  about  the 
prairie.  The  whole  were  visible  at  once,  for  the  vast  expanse  was 
unbroken  by  hills,  and  there  was  not  a  tree  or  a  bush  to  intercept 
the  view. 

Here  and  there  walked  an  Indian,  engaged  in  watching  the 
horses.  No  sooner  did  we  see  them  than  Tete  Rouge  begged 
Delorier  to  stop  the  cart  and  hand  him  his  little  military  jacket, 
which  was  stowed  away  there.  In  this  he  instantly  invested  himself, 
having  for  once  laid  the  old  buffalo  coat  aside,  assumed  a  most 
martial  posture  in  the  saddle,  set  his  cap  over  his  left  eye  ^rith  an 
air  of  defiance,  and  earnestly  entreated  that  somebody  would  lend 
him  a  gun  or  a  pistol  only  for  half  an  hour.  Being  called  upon 


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to  explain  these  remarkable  proceedings,  Tete  Rouge  observed 
that  he  knew  from  experience  what  effect  the  presence  of  a  military 
man  in  his  uniform  always  had  upon  the  mind  of  an  Indian,  and 
he  thought  the  Arapahoes  ought  to  know  that  there  was  a  soldier 
in  the  party. 

Meeting  Arapahoes  here  on  the  Arkansas  was  a  very  different 
thing  from  meeting  the  same  Indians  among  their  native  moun- 
tains. There  was  another  circumstance  in  our  favor.  General 
Kearny  had  seen  them  a  few  weeks  before,  as  he  came  up  the 
river  with  his  army,  and  renewing  his  threats  of  the  previous  year, 
he  told  them  that  if  they  ever  again  touched  the  hair  of  a  white 
man's  head  he  would  exterminate  their  nation.  This  placed  them 
for  the  time  in  an  admirable  frame  of  mind,  and  the  effect  of  his 
menaces  had  not  yet  disappeared.  I  was  anxious  to  see  the  village 
and  its  inhabitants.  We  thought  it  also  our  best  policy  to  visit  them 
openly,  as  if  unsuspicious  of  any  hostile  design ;  and  Shaw  and  I, 
with  Henry  Chatillon,  prepared  to  cross  the  river.  The  rest  of  the 
party  meanwhile  moved  forward  as  fast  as  they  would,  in  order 
to  get  as  far  as  possible  from  our  suspicious  neighbors  before  night 
came  on. 

The  Arkansas  at  this  point,  and  for  several  hundred  miles  be- 
low, is  nothing  but  a  broad  sand-bed,  over  which  a  few  scanty 
threads  of  water  are  swiftly  gliding,  now  and  then  expanding  into 
wide  shallows.  At  several  places,  during  the  autumn,  the  water 
sinks  into  the  sand  and  disappears  altogether.  At  this  season, 
were  it  not  for  the  numerous  quicksands,  the  river  might  be  forded 
almost  anywhere  without  difficulty,  though  its  channel  is  often  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  Our  horses  jumped  down  the  bank,  and 
wading  through  the  water,  or  galloping  freely  over  the  hard  sand- 
beds,  soon  reached  the  other  side.  Here,  as  we  were  pushing 
through  the  tall  grass,  we  saw  several  Indians  not  far  off ;  one  of 
them  waited  until  we  came  up,  and  stood  for  some  moments  in 
perfect  silence  before  us,  looking  at  us  askance  with  his  little 
snakelike  eyes.  Henry  explained  by  signs  what  we  wanted,  and 
the  Indian,  gathering  his  buffalo  robe  about  his  shoulders,  led  the 
way  toward  the  village  without  speaking  a  word. 

The  language  of  the  Arapahoes  is  so  difficult,  and  its  pronuncia- 
tions so  harsh  and  guttural,  that  no  white  man,  it  is  said,  has  ever 
been  able  to  master  it.  Even  Maxwell  the  trader,  who  has  been 


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most  among  them,  is  compelled  to  resort  to  the  curious  sign  lan- 
guage common  to  most  of  the  prairie  tribes.  With  this  Henry 
Chatillon  was  perfectly  acquainted. 
\  Approaching  the  village,  we  found  the  ground  all  around  it 
strewn  with  great  piles  of  waste  buffalo  meat  in  incredible  quanti- 
ties. The  lodges  were  pitched  in  a  very  wide  circle.  They  resembled 
those  of  the  Dakota  in  everything  but  cleanliness  and  neatness. 
Passing  between  two  of  them,  we  entered  the  great  circular  area 
of  the  camp,  and  instantly  hundreds  of  Indians,  men,  women  and 
children,  came  flocking  out  of  their  habitations  to  look  at  us;  at 
the  same  time,  the  dogs  all  around  the  village  set  up  a  fearful  bay- 
ing. Our  Indian  guide  walked  toward  the  lodge  of  the  chief.  Here 
we  dismounted;  and  loosening  the  trail-ropes  from  our  horses' 
necks,  held  them  securely,  and  sat  down  before  the  entrance,  with 
our  rifles  laid  across  our  laps.  The  chief  came  out  and  shook  us 
by  the  hand.  He  was  a  mean-looking  fellow,  very  tail,  thin-visaged, 
and  sinewy,  like  the  rest  of  the  nation,  and  with  scarcely  a  vestige 
of  clothing.  We  had  not  been  seated  half  a  minute  before  a  multi- 
tude of  Indians  came  crowding  around  us  from  every  part  of  the 
village,  and  we  were  shut  in  by  a  dense  wall  of  savage  faces.  Some 
of  the  Indians  crouched  around  us  on  the  ground;  others  again 
sat  behind  them ;  others,  stooping,  looked  over  their  heads ;  while 
many  more  stood  crowded  behind,  stretching  themselves  upward, 
and  peering  over  each  other's  shoulders,  to  get  a  view  of  us.  I 
looked  in  vain  among  this  multitude  of  faces  to  discover  one  manly 
or  generous  expression ;  all  were  wolfish,  sinister,  and  malignant, 
and  their  complexions,  as  well  as  their  features,  unlike  those  of 
the  Dakota,  were  exceedingly  bad.  The  chief,  who  sat  close  to  the 
entrance,  called  to  a  squaw  within  the  lodge,  who  soon  came  out 
and  placed  a  wooden  bowl  of  meat  before  us.  To  our  surprise, 
however,  no  pipe  was  offered.  Having  tasted  of  the  meat  as  a 
matter  of  form,  I  began  to  open  a  bundle  of  presents — tobacco, 
knives,  vermilion,  and  other  articles  which  I  had  brought  with  me. 
At  this  there  was  a  grin  on  every  countenance  in  the  rapacious 
crowd ;  their  eyes  began  to  glitter,  and  long  thin  arms  were  eagerly 
stretched  toward  us  on  all  sides  to  receiv  j  the  gifts.    ^ 

The  Arapahoes  set  great  value  upon  their  shields,  which  they 
transmit  carefully  from  father  to  son.  I  wished  to  get  one  of  them ; 
and  displaying  a  large  piece  of  scarlet  cloth,  together  with  some 


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tobacco  and  a  knife,  I  offered  them  to  any  one  who  would  bring 
me  what  I  wanted.  After  some  delay  a  tolerable  shield  was  pro- 
duced. They  were  very  anxious  to  know  what  we  meant  to  do  with 
it,  and  Henry  told  them  that  we  were  going  to  fight  their  enemies, 
the  Pawnees.  This  instantly  produced  a  visible  impression  in  our 
favor,  which  was  increased  by  the  distribution  of  the  presents. 
Among  these  was  a  large  paper  of  awls,  a  gift  appropriate  to  the 
women ;  and  as  we  were  anxious  to  see  the  beauties  of  the  Arapa- 
hoe village  Henry  requested  that  they  might  be  called  to  receive 
them.  A  warrior  gave  a  shout  as  if  he  were  calling  a  pack  of  dogs 
together.  The  squaws,  young  and  old,  hags  of  eighty  and  girls  of 
sixteen,  came  running  with  screams  and  laughter  out  of  the  lodges  ; 
and  as  the  men  gave  way  for  them  they  gathered  round  us  and 
stretched  out  their  arms,  grinning  with  delight,  their  native  ugli- 
ness considerably  enhanced  by  the  excitement  o  t  the  moment.  /V*^ 

Mounting  our  horses,  which  during  the  whole  interview  we  haa 
held  close  to  us,  we  prepared  to  leave  the  Arapahoes.  The  crowd 
fell  back  on  each  side  and  stood  looking  on.  When  we  were  half 
across  the  camp  an  idea  occurred  to  us.  The  Pawnees  were  probably 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Caches ;  we  might  tell  the  Arapahoes  of 
this  and  instigate  them  to  send  down  a  war  party  and  cut  them 
off,  while  we  ourselves  could  remain  behind  for  a  while  and  hunt 
the  buffalo.  At  first  thought  this  plan  of  setting  our  enemies  to 
destroy  one  another  seemed  to  us  a  masterpiece  of  policy ;  but  we 
immediately  recollected  that  should  we  meet  the  Arapahoe  war- 
riors On  the  river  below  they  might  prove  quite  as  dangerous  as 
the  Pawnees  themselves.  So  rejecting  our  plan  as  soon  as  it 
presented  itself,  we  passed  out  of  the  village  on  the  farther  side. 
We  urged  our  horses  rapidly  through  the  tall  grass  which  rose  to 
their  necks.  Several  Indians  were  walking  through  it  at  a  distance, 
their  heads  just  visible  above  its  waving  surface.  It  bore  a  kind 
of  seed  as  sweet  and  nutritious  as  oats ;  and  our  hungry  horses,  in 
spite  of  whip  and  rein,  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  snatching 
at  this  unwonted  luxury  as  we  passed  along.  When  about  a  mile 
from  the  village  I  turned  and  looked  back  over  the  undulating 
ocean  of  grass.  The  sun  was  just  set ;  the  western  sky  was  all  in 
a  glow,  and  sharply  defined  against  it,  on  the  extreme  verge  of  the 
plain,  stood  the  numerous  lodges  of  the  Arapahoe  camp. 

Reaching  the  bank  of  the  river,  we  followed  it  for  some  distance 


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farther,  until  we  discerned  through  the  twilight  the  white  covering 
of  our  little  cart  on  the  opposite  bank.  When  we  reached  it  wc 
found  a  considerable  'ijmber  of  Indians  there  before  us.  Four  or 
five  of  them  were  seated  in  a  row  upon  the  ground,  looking  like  so 
many  half-starved  vultures.  Tete  Rouge,  in  his  uniform,  was  hold- 
ing a  close  coUoc^uy  with  another  by  the  side  of  the  cart.  His 
gesticulations,  his  attefitpts  at  sign-making,  and  the  contortions  of 
his  countenance,  were  most  ludicrous ;  and  finding  all  these  of  no 
avail,  he  tried  to  make  the  Indian  understand  him  by  repea*in; 
Engli*?h  words  very  lou("  y  ar  '  di  tinctly  agair  and  again.  The 
India '.  sat  with  h^ :  eye  lissci  .teadily  upon  him,  and  in  spite  of 
the  rigicLimmobility  of  his  '•  fti^^s,  it  was  clear  at  a  glance  that 
he  perfectlynundefsTood  his  militdj  companion's  character  and 
thoroughly  despised  him.  The  exhibition  was  more  amusing  than 
politic,  and  Tete  Rouge  was  directed  to  finish  what  he  had  to  say 
as  soon  as  possible.  Thus  rebuked,  he  crept  under  the  cart  and  sat 
down  there ;  Henry  Chatillon  stooped  to  look  at  him  in  his  retire- 
ment, and  remarked  in  his  quiet  manner  that  an  Indian  would  kill 
ten  such  men  and  laugh  all  the  time. 

One  by  one  our  visitors  rose  and  stalked  away.  As  the  darkness 
thickened  we  were  saluted  by  dismal  sounds.  The  wolves  are  in- 
credibly numerous  in  this  part  of  the  cc  ntry,  and  the  oflFal  around 
the  Arapahoe  camp  had  drawn  such  multitudes  of  them  together 
that  several  hundred  were  howling  in  concert  in  our  immediate 
neighborhood.  There  was  an  island  in  the  river,  or  rather  an 
oasis  in  the  midst  of  the  sands  at  about  the  distance  of  a  gunshot, 
and  here  they  seemed  gathered  in  the  greatest  numbers.  A  horrible 
discord  of  low  mournful  wailings,  mingled  with  ferocious  howls, 
arose  from  it  incessantly  for  several  hours  after  sunset.  We  could 
distinctly  see  the  wolves  running  about  the  prairie  within  a  few 
rods  of  our  fire,  or  bounding  over  the  sand-beds  of  the  river  and 
splashing  through  the  water.  There  was  not  the  slightest  danger  to 
be  feared  from  them,  for  they  are  the  greatest  cowards  on  the 
prairie. 

In  respect  to  the  human  wolves  in  our  neighborhood,  we  felt 
much  less  at  our  ease.  We  seldom  erected  our  tent  except  in  bad 
weather,  and  that  night  each  man  spread  his  buflFalo  robe  upon  the 
ground  with  his  loac  ed  rifle  laid  at  his  side  or  clasped  in  his  arms. 


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Our  horses  were  picketed  so  close  around  us  that  one  of  them  re- 
peatedly stepped  over  me  as  I  lay.  We  were  not  in  the  habit  of 
p'  icing  a  guard,  hut  e^ery  man  that  night  was  anxious  and  watch- 
f  ;  there  was  little  sound  sleeping  in  camp,  and  some  one  of  the 
party  was  on  his  feet  during  lie  greater  part  of  the  time.  For 
nv  self,  I  lay  alternately  wnkii.g  and  dozing  until  midnight.  Teto 
F  Jge  was  reposing  clr«se  to  the  river  bank,  and  about  this  time, 
A/hen  half  a?'?e^  and  half  awake,  I  was  conscious  that  he  shifted 
his  position  and  crept  on  all-fours  under  the  cart.  Soon  after  I 
fell  into  a  sound  sleep  from  which  I  was  aroused  by  a  hand  shaking 
me  by  the  shoulder.  Looking  up,  I  saw  Tete  Rouge  st^^oping  over 
me  with  his  face  quite  pale  and  his  eyes  dilated  to  le.  utmost 
expansion. 

"What's  the  matter?"  said  I. 

Tete  Rouge  declared  that  as  he  lay  on  the  river  ban.  something 
caught  his  eye  which  excited  his  suspicions.  So  ere  ^wc  under  the 
cart  for  safety's  sake  he  sat  there  and  watched,  wi.^n  he  saw  two 
Indians,  wrapped  in  white  robes,  creep  up  the  bank,  seize  upon 
two  horses  and  lead  them  off.  He  looked  so  frightened,  and  told 
his  story  in  such  a  disconnected  manner,  that  I  did  not  believe  him, 
and  was  unwilling  to  alarm  the  party.  Still  it  might  be  true,  and 
in  that  case  the  matter  required  instant  attention.  There  would 
be  no  time  for  examination,  and  so  directing  Tete  Rouge  to  show 
me  which  way  the  Indians  had  gone,  I  took  my  rifle,  in  obedience 
to  a  thoughtless  impulse,  and  left  the  camp.  I  followed  the  river 
back  for  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  listening  and  looking  anx- 
iously on  every  side.  In  the  dark  prairie  on  the  right  I  could  dis- 
cern nothing  to  excite  alarm ;  and  in  the  dusky  bed  of  the  river,  a 
wolf  was  bounding  along  in  a  manner  which  no  Indian  could 
imitate.  I  returned  to  the  camp,  and  when  within  sight  of  it,  saw 
that  the  whole  party  was  aroused.  Shaw  called  out  to  me  that  he 
had  counted  the  horses,  and  that  every  one  of  them  was  in  his 
place.  Tete  Rouge,  being  examined  as  to  what  he  had  seen,  only 
repeated  his  former  story  with  many  asseverations,  and  insisted 
that  two  horses  were  certainly  carried  oflf.  At  this  Jim  Gurney 
declared  that  he  was  crazy;  Tete  Rouge  indignantly  denied  the 
charge,  on  which  Jim  appealed  to  us.  As  we  declined  to  give  our 
judgment  on  so  delicate  a  matter,  the  dispute  grew  hot  between 


<m 


I 


,;wi 


■.■U: 

-4,-y'' 


258 


The  Oregon  Trail 


Tete  Rouge  and  his  accuser,  until  he  was  directed  to  go  to  bed 
and  not  alarm  the  camp  again  if  he  saw  the  whole  Arapahoe  village 
coming. 


h-i 


.  ( 


Chapter  XXIV 
THE  CHASE 


r    t 


;  1 


The  country  before  us  was  now  thronged  with  buffalo,  and  a 
sketch  of  the  manner  of  hunting  them  will  not  be  out  of  place. 
Tfiere  are  two  methods  commonly  practiced,  "running"  and  "ap- 
proaching." The  chase  on  horseback,  which  goes  by  the  name  of 
"running,"  is  the  more  violent  and  dashing  mode  of  the  two.  In- 
deed, of  all  American  wild  sports,  this  is  the  wildest.  Once  among 
the  buffaio,  the  hunter,  unless  long  use  has  made  him  familiar  with 
the  situation,  dashes  forward  in  utter  recklessness  and  self-aban- 
donment. He  thinks  of  nothing,  cares  for  nothing  but  the  game; 
his  mind  is  stimulated  to  the  highest  pitch,  yet  intensely  concen- 
trated on  one  object.  In  the  midst  of  the  flying  herd,  where  the 
uproar  and  the  dust  are  thickest,  it  never  wavers  for  a  moment; 
he  drops  the  rein  and  abandons  his  horse  to  his  furious  caretr ;  he 
levels  his  gun,  the  report  sounds  faint  amid  the  thunder  of  the 
buffalo ;  and  when  his  wounded  enemy  leaps  in  vain  fury  upon 
him,  his  heart  thrills  with  a  feeling  like  the  fierce  delight  of  the 
battlefield.  A  practiced  and  skillful  hunter,  well  mounted,  will 
sometimes  kill  five  or  six  cows  in  a  single  chase,  loading  his  gun 
again  and  again  as  his  horse  rushes  through  the  tumult.  An  exploit 
like  this  is  quite  beyond  the  capacities  of  a  novice.  In  attacking  a 
small  band  of  buffalo,  or  in  separating  a  single  animal  from  the 
herd  and  assailing  it  apart  from  the  rest,  there  is  less  excitement 
and  less  danger.  With  a  bold  and  well  trained  horse  the  hunter 
may  ride  so  close  to  the  buffalo  that  as  they  gallop  side  by  side  he 
may  reach  over  and  touch  him  with  his  hand ;  nor  is  there  much 
danger  in  this  as  long  as  the  buffalo's  strength  and  breath  continue 
unabated;  but  when  he  becomes  tired  and  can  no  longer  run  at 
ease,  when  his  tongue  lolls  out  and  foam  flies  from  his  jaws,  then 
the  hunter  had  better  keep  at  a  more  respectful  distance ;  the  dis- 


The  Oregon  Trail 


259 


tressed  brute  may  turn  upon  him  at  any  instant ;  and  especially  at 
the  moment  when  he  fires  his  gun.  The  wounded  buffalo  springs 
at  his  enemy ;  the  horse  leaps  violently  aside ;  and  then  the  hunter 
has  need  of  a  tenacious  seat  in  the  saddle,  for  if  he  is  thrown  to 
the  ground  there  is  no  hope  for  him.  When  he  sees  his  attack  de- 
feated the  buflfa'n  resumes  his  flight,  but  if  the  shot  be  well  directed 
he  soon  stops ;  for  a  few  moments  he  stands  still,  then  totters  and 
falls  heavily  upon  the  prairie. 

The  chief  difficulty  in  running  buffalo,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  that 
of  loading  the  gun  or  pistol  at  full  gallop.  Many  hunters  for  con- 
venience sake  carry  three  or  four  bullets  iii  the  mouth ;  the  powder 
is  poured  down  the  muzzle  of  the  piece,  the  bullet  dropped  in  after 
it,  the  stock  struck  hard  upon  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  and  the 
work  is  done.  The  danger  of  this  method  is  obvious.  Should  the 
blow  on  the  pommel  fail  to  send  the  bullet  home,  or  should  the 
latter,  in  the  act  of  aiming,  start  from  its  place  and  roll  toward 
the  muzzle,  the  gun  would  probably  burst  in  discharging.  Many  a 
shattered  hand  and  worse  casualties  besides  have  been  the  result 
of  such  an  accident.  To  obviate  it,  some  hunters  make  use  of  a 
ramrod,  usually  hung  by  a  string  from  the  neck,  but  this  materially 
increases  the  difficulty  of  loading.  The  bows  and  arrows  which  the 
Indians  use  in  running  buffalo  have  many  advantages  over  fire 
arms,  and  even  white  men  occasionally  employ  them. 

The  danger  of  the  chase  arises  not  so  much  from  the  onset  of 
the  wounded  animal  as  from  the  nature  of  the  ground  which  the 
hunter  must  ride  over.  The  prairie  does  not  always  present  a 
smooth,  level,  and  uniform  surface;  very  often  it  is  broken  with 
hills  and  hollows,  intersected  by  ravines,  and  in  the  remoter  parts 
studded  by  the  stiff  wild-sage  bushes.  The  most  formidable  ob- 
structions, however,  are  the  burrows  of  wild  animals,  wolves, 
badgers,  and  particularly  prairie  dogs,  with  whose  holes  the  ground 
for  a  very  great  extent  is  frequently  honey-combed.  In  the  blind- 
ness of  the  chase  the  hunter  rushes  over  it  unconscious  of  danger ; 
his  horse,  at  full  career,  thrusts  his  leg  deep  into  one  of  the  bur- 
rows; the  bone  snaps,  the  rider  is  hurled  forward  to  the  ground 
and  probably  killed.  Yet  accidents  in  buffalo  running  happen  less 
frequently  than  one  would  suppose ;  in  the  recklessness  of  the  chase, 
the  hunter  enjoys  all  the  impunity  of  a  drunken  man,  and  may 
ride  in  safety  over  the  gullies  and  declivities  where,  should  he  at- 


I 


260 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I* 


:  :   I 


(;:  i 


:*•  i 


%\ 


. I*  I 


tempt  to  pass  in  his  sober  senses,  he  wouJdJnfalHbly  break  his  neck. 

The  method  of  **approachrng:7*hemg  practiced  on  foot,  has  many 
advantages  over  that  of  "running";  in  the  former,  one  neither 
breaks  down  his  horse  nor  endangers  his  own  life;  instead  of 
yielding  to  excitement  he  must  be  cool,  collected,  and  watchful ;  he 
must  understand  the  buffalo,  observe  the  features  of  the  country 
and  the  course  of  the  wind,  and  be  well  skilled,  moreover,  in  using 
the  rifle.  The  buflFalo  are  strange  animals ;  sometimes  they  are  so 
stupid  and  infatuated  that  a  man  may  walk  up  to  them  in  full 
sight  on  the  open  prairie,  and  even  shoot  several  of  their  number 
before  the  rest  will  think  it  necessary  to  retreat.  Again  at  another 
moment  they  will  be  so  shy  and  wary,  that  in  order  to  approach 
them  the  utmost  skill,  experience,  and  judgment  are  necessary. 
Kit  Carson,  I  believe,  stands  pre-eminent  in  running  buflFalo;  in 
approaching,  no  man  living  can  bear  away  the  palm  from  Henry 
Chatillon. 

To  resume  the  story:  After  Tete  Rouge  had  alarmed  the  camp, 
no  further  disturbance  occurred  during  the  night.  The  Arapahoes 
did  not  attempt  mischief,  or  if  they  did  the  wakefulness  of  the 
party  deterred  them  from  effecting  their  purpose.  The  next  day 
was  one  of  activity  and  excitement,  for  about  ten  o'clock  the  men 
in  advance  shouted  the  gladdening  cry  of  "BuflFalo,  buflFalo !"  and 
in  the  hollow  of  the  prairie  just  below  us,  a  band  of  bulls  were 
grazing.  The  temptation  was  irresistible,  and  Shaw  and  I  rode 
down  upon  them.  We  were  badly  mounted  on  our  traveling  horses, 
but  by  hard  lashing  we  overtook  them,  and  Shaw  running  along- 
side of  a  bull,  shot  into  him  both  balls  of  his  doublebarreled  gun. 
Looking  round  as  I  galloped  past,  I  saw  the  bull  in  his  mortal 
fury  rushing  again  and  again  upon  his  antagonist,  whose  horse 
constantly  leaped  aside,  and  avoided  the  onset.  My  chase  was  more 
protracted,  but  at  length  I  ran  close  to  the  bull  and  killed  him  with 
my  pistols.  Cutting  oflF  the  tails  of  our  victims  by  way  of  trophy, 
we  rejoined  the  party  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  we  left 
it.  Again  and  again  that  morning  rang  out  the  same  welcome  cry 
of  "Buffalo,  buffalo !"  Every  few  moments  in  the  broad  meadows 
along  the  river,  we  would  see  bands  of  bulls,  who,  raising  their 
shaggy  heads,  would  gaze  in  stupid  amazement  at  the  approaching 
horsemen,  and  then  breaking  into  a  clumsy  gallop,  would  file  off 
in  a  long  line  across  the  trail  in  front,  toward  the  rising  prairie 


The  Oregon  Trail 


261 


on  the  left.  At  noon,  the  whole  plain  before  us  was  alive  with  thou- 
sands of  buffalo — bulls,  cows,  and  calves — ^all  moving  rapidly  as  we 
drew  near;  and  far-off  beyond  the  river  the  swelling  prairie  was 
darkened  with  them  to  the  very  horizon.  The  party  was  in  gayer 
spirits  than  ever.  We  stopped  for  a  nooning  near  a  grove  of  trees 
by  the  river-side. 

"Tongues  and  hump  ribs  to-morrow,"  said  Shaw,  looking  with 
contempt  at  the  venison  steaks  which  Delorier  placed  before  us. 
Our  meal  finished,  we  lay  down  under  a  temporary  awning  to 
sleep.  A  shout  from  Henry  Chatillon  aroused  us,  and  we  saw  him 
standing  on  the  cartwheel  stretching  his  tall  figure  to  its  full 
height  while  he  looked  toward  the  prairie  beyond  the  river.  Fol- 
lowing the  direction  of  his  eyes  we  could  clearly  distinguish  a  large 
dark  object,  like  the  black  shadow  of  a  cloud,  passing  rapidly  over 
swell  after  swell  of  the  distant  plain ;  behind  it  followed  another  of 
similar  appearance  though  smaller.  Its  motion  was  more  rapid, 
and  it  drew  closer  and  closer  to  the  first.  It  was  the  hunters  of  the 
Arapahoe  camp  pursuing  a  band  of  buffalo.  Shaw  and  I  hastily 
sought  and  saddled  our  best  horses,  and  went  plunging  through 
sand  and  water  to  the  farther  bank.  We  were  too  late.  The  hunters 
had  already  mingled  with  the  herd,  and  the  work  of  slaughter  was 
nearly  over.  When  we  reached  the  ground  we  found  it  strewn  far 
and  near  with  numberless  black  carcasses,  while  the  remnants  of 
the  herd,  scattered  in  all  directions,  were  flying  away  in  terror,  and 
the  Indians  still  rushing  in  pursuit.  Many  of  the  hunters,  however, 
remained  upon  the  spot,  and  among  the  rest  was  our  yesterday's 
acquaintance,  the  chief  of  the  village.  He  had  alighted  by  the  side 
of  a  cow,  into  which  he  had  shot  five  or  six  arrows,  and  his  squaw, 
who  had  followed  him  on  horseback  to  the  hunt,  was  giving  him  a 
draught  of  water  out  of  a  canteen,  purchased  or  plundered  from 
some  volunteer  soldi  r.  Recrossing  the  river  we  overtook  the  party, 
who  were  already  on  their  way. 

We  had  scarcely  gone  a  mile  when  an  imposing  spectacle  pre- 
sented itself.  From  the  river  bank  on  the  right,  away  over  the 
swelling  prairie  on  the  left,  and  in  front  as  far  as  we  could  see, 
extended  one  vast  host  of  buffalo.  The  outskirts  of  the  herd  were 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  In  many  parts  they  were  crowded  so 
densely  together  that  in  the  distance  their  rounded  backs  presented 
a  surface  of  uniform  blackness;  but  elsewhere  they  were  more 


,'     > 


262 


The  Oregon  Trail 


scattered,  and  from  amid  the  multitude  rose  little  columns  of  dust 
where  the  buffalo  were  rollJng  on  the  ground.  Here  and  there  a 
great  confusion  was  perceptible,  where  a  battle  was  going  forward 
among  the  bulls.  We  could  distinctly  see  them  rushing  against  each 
other,  and  hear  the  clattering  of  their  horns  and  their  hoarse  bel- 
lowing. Shaw  was  riding  at  some  distance  in  advance,  with  Henry 
Chatillon ;  I  saw  him  stop  and  draw  the  leather  covering  from  his 
gun.  Indeed,  with  such  a  sight  before  us,  but  one  thing  could  be 
thought  of.  That  morning  I  had  used  pistols  in  the  chase.  I  had 
now  a  mind  to  try  the  virtue  of  a  gun.  Delorier  had  one,  and  I 
rode  up  to  the  side  of  the  cart ;  there  he  sat  under  the  white  cover- 
ing, biting  his  pipe  between  his  teeth  and  grinning  with  excitement. 

"Lend  me  your  gun,  Delorier,"  said  I. 

'Out,  monsieur,  oui,"  said  Delorier,  tugging  with  might  and  main 
to  stop  the  mule,  which  seemed  obstinately  bent  on  going  forward. 
Then  everything  but  his  moccasins  disappeared  as  he  crawled  into 
the  cart  and  pulled  at  the  gun  to  extricate  it. 

"Is  it  loaded?"  I  asked. 

"Out,  bien  charge;  you'll  kill,  fnon  bourgeois;  yes,  you'll  kill — 
c'est  un  ban  fusil." 

I  handed  him  my  rifle  and  rode  forward  to  Shaw. 

"Are  you  ready?"  he  asked. 

"Come  on,"  said  I. 

"Keep  down  that  hollow,"  said  Henry,  "and  then  they  won't  see 
you  till  you  get  close  to  them." 

The  hollow  was  a  kind  of  ravine  very  wide  and  sViallow ;  it  ran 
obliquely  toward  the  buflfalo,  and  we  rode  at  a  canter  along  the 
bottom  until  it  became  too  shallow,  when  we  bent  close  to  our 
horses'  necks,  and  then  finding  that  it  could  no  longer  conceal  us, 
came  out  of  it  and  rode  directly  toward  the  herd.  It  was  within 
gunshot;  l)efore  its  outskirts,  numerous  grizzly  old  bulls  Wvre 
scattered,  holding  guard  over  their  females.  They  glared  at  us  in 
anger  and  astonishment,  walked  toward  us  a  few  yards,  and  then 
turning  slowly  round  retreated  at  a  trot  which  afterward  broke 
into  a  clumsy  gallop.  In  an  instant  the  main  body  caught  the  alarm. 
The  buffalo  began  to  crowd  away  from  the  point  toward  whidi 
we  v^rere  approaching,  and  a  gap  was  opened  in  the  side  of  the  herd. 
We  entered  it,  still  restraining  our  excited  horses.  Every  instant 
the  tumult  was  thickening.  The  buffalo,  pressing  together  in  large 


The  Oregon  Trail 


263 


bodies^  crowded  away  from  us  on  every  hand.  In  front  and  on 
either  side  we  could  see  dark  columns  and  masses,  half  hidden  by 
clouds  of  dust,  rushing  along  in  terror  and  confusion,  and  hear  the 
tramp  and  clattering  of  ten  thousand  hoofs.  That  countless  multi- 
tude of  powerful  brutes,  ignorant  of  their  own  strength,  were  flying 
in  a  panic  from  the  approach  of  two  feeble  horsemen.  To  remain 
quiet  longer  was  impossible. 

'Take  that  band  on  the  left,"  said  Shaw;  "I'll  take  these  in 
front." 

He  sprang  off,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  him.  A  heavy  Indian  whip 
was  fastened  by  a  band  to  my  wrist;  I  swung  it  into  the  air  and 
lashed  my  horse's  flank  with  all  the  strength  of  my  arm.  Away  she 
darted,  stretching  close  to  the  ground.  I  could  see  nothing  but  a 
cloud  of  dust  before  me,  but  I  knew  that  it  concealed  a  band  of 
many  hundreds  of  buffalo.  In  a  moment  I  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
cloud,  half  suffocated  by  the  dust  and  stunned  by  the  trampling  of 
the  flying  herd ;  but  I  was  drunk  with  the  chase  and  cared  for 
nothing  but  the  buffalo.  Very  soon  a  long  dark  mass  became  visible, 
looming  through  the  dust;  then  I  could  distinguish  each  bulky 
carcass,  the  hoofs  flying  out  beneath,  the  short  tails  held  rigidly 
erect.  In  a  moment  I  was  so  close  that  I  could  have  touched  them 
with  my  gun.  Suddenly,  to  my  utter  amazement,  the  hoofs  were 
jerked  upward,  the  tails  flourished  in  the  air,  and  amid  a  cloud  of 
(lust  the  buffalo  seemed  to  sink  into  the  earth  before  me.  One 
vivid  impression  of  that  instant  remains  upon  my  mind.  I  remem- 
ber looking  down  upon  the  backs  of  several  buffalo  dimly  visible 
through  the  dust.  We  had  run  unawares  upon  a  ravine.  At  that 
moment  I  was  not  the  most  accurate  judge  of  depth  and  width,  but 
when  I  passed  it  on  my  return,  I  found  it  about  twelve  feet  deep 
and  not  quite  twice  as  wide  at  the  bottom.  It  was  impossible  to 
stop;  I  would  have  done  so  gladly  if  I  could;  so,  half  sliding,  half 
plunging,  down  went  the  little  mare.  I  believe  she  came  down  on 
her  knees  in  the  loose  sand  at  the  bottom ;  I  was  pitched  forward 
violently  against  her  neck  and  nearly  thrown  over  her  head  among 
the  buffalo,  who  amid  dust  and  confusion  came  tumbling  in  all 
around.  The  mare  was  on  her  feet  in  an  instant  and  scranibling 
like  a  cat  up  the  opposite  side.  I  thought  for  a  moment  that  she 
would  have  fallen  back  and  crushed  me,  but  with  a  violeiit  effort 
she  clambered  out  and  gained  the  hard  prairie  above.  Glancing  back 


264 


The  Oregon  Trail 


IS 

r  f    '■ 


■  is. 


I^J 


1 


M 


I 


m 


I  saw  the  huge  head  of  a  bull  clinging  as  it  were  by  the  forefeet  at 
the  edge  of  the  dusty  gulf.  At  length  I  was  fairly  among  the 
buffalo.  They  were  less  densely  crowded  than  before,  and  I  could 
see  nothing  but  bulls,  who  always  run  at  the  rear  of  the  herd.  As 
I  passed  amid  them  they  would  lower  their  heads,  and  turning  as 
they  ran,  attempt  to  gore  my  horse ;  but  as  they  were  already  at 
full  speed  there  was  no  force  in  their  onset,  and  as  Pauline  ran 
faster  than  they,  they  were  always  thrown  behind  her  in  the  effort. 
I  soon  began  to  distinguish  cows  amid  the  throng.  One  just  in 
front  of  me  seemed  to  my  liking,  and  I  pushed  close  to  her  side. 
Dropping  the  reins  I  fired,  holding  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  within 
a  foot  of  her  shoulder.  Quick  as  lightning  she  sprang  at  Pauline; 
the  little  mare  dodged  the  attack,  and  I  lost  sight  of  the  wounded 
animal  amid  the  tumultuous  crowd.  Immediately  after  I  selected 
another,  and  urging  forward  Pauline,  shot  into  her  both  pistols 
in  succession.  For  a  while  I  kept  her  in  view,  but  in  attempting  to 
load  my  gun,  lost  sight  of  her  also  in  the  confusion.  Believing  her 
to  be  mortally  wounded  and  unable  to  keep  up  with  the  herd,  I 
checked  my  horse.  The  crowd  rushed  onward.  The  dust  and  tumult 
passed  away,  and  on  the  prairie,  far  behind  the  rest,  I  saw  a  solitary 
buffalo  galloping  heavily.  In  a  moment  I  and  my  victim  were  run- 
ning side  by  side.  My  firearms  were  all  empty,  and  I  had  in  my 
pouch  nothing  but  rifle  bullets,  too  large  for  the  pistols  and  too 
small  for  the  gun.  I  loaded  the  latter,  however,  but  as  often  as  I 
leveled  it  to  fire,  the  little  bullets  would  roll  out  of  the  muzzle  and 
the  gun  returned  only  a  faint  report  like  a  squib,  as  the  powder 
harmlessly  exploded.  I  galloped  in  front  of  the  buffalo  and  at- 
tempted to  turn  her  back ;  but  her  eyes  glared,  her  mane  bristled, 
and  lowering  her  head,  she  rushed  at  me  with  astonishing  fierceness 
and  activity.  Again  and  again  I  rode  before  her,  and  again  and 
again  she  repeated  her  furious  charge.  But  little  Pauline  was  in 
her  element.  She  dodged  her  enemy  at  every  rush,  until  at  length 
the  buffalo  stood  still,  exhausted  with  her  own  efforts ;  she  panted, 
and  her  tongue  hung  lolling  from  her  jaws. 

Riding  to  a  little  distance  I  alighted,  thinking  to  gather  a  hand- 
ful of  dry  grass  to  serve  the  purpose  of  wadding,  and  load  the  gun 
at  my  leisure.  No  sooner  were  my  feet  on  the  ground  than  the 
buffalo  came  bounding  in  such  a  rage  toward  me  that  I  jumiK-d 
back  again  into  the  saddle  with  all  possible  dispatch.  After  waiting 


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a  few  minutes  more,  I  made  an  attempt  to  ride  up  and  stab  her 
with  my  knife;  but  the  experiment  proved  such  as  no  wise  man 
would  repeat.  At  length,  bethinking  me  of  the  fringes  at  the  seams 
of  my  buckskin  pantaloons,  I  jerked  off  a  few  of  them,  and  re- 
loading my  gun,  forced  them  down  the  barrel  to  keep  the  bullet  in 
its  place;  then  approaching,  I  shot  the  wounded  buffalo  through 
the  heart.  Sinking  to  her  knees,  she  rolled  over  lifeless  on  the 
prairie.  To  my  astonishment,  I  found  that  instead  of  a  fat  cow 
I  had  been  slaughtering  a  stout  yearling  bull.  No  longer  wondering 
at  the  fierceness  he  had  shown,  I  opened  his  throat  and  cutting  out 
his  tongue,  tied  it  at  the  back  of  my  saddle.  My  mistake  was  one 
which  a  more  experienced  eye  than  mine  might  easily  make  in  the 
dust  and  confusion  of  such  a  chase. 

Then  for  the  first  time  I  had  leisure  to  look  at  the  scene  around 
me.  The  prairie  in  front  was  darkened  with  the  retreating  multi- 
tude, and  on  the  other  hand  the  buffalo  came  filing  up  in  endless 
unbroken  columns  from  the  low  plains  upon  the  river.  The  Arkan- 
sas was  three  or  four  miles  distant.  I  turned  and  moved  slowly 
toward  it.  A  long  time  passed  before,  far  down  in  the  distance,  I 
distinguished  the  white  covering  of  the  cart  and  the  little  black 
specks  of  horsemen  before  and  behind  it.  Drawing  nrar,  I  recog- 
nized Shaw's  elegant  tunic,  the  red  flannel  shirt,  conspicuous  far 
off.  I  overtook  the  party,  and  asked  him  what  success  he  had  met 
with.  He  had  assailed  a  fut  cow,  shot  her  with  two  bullets,  and 
mortally  wounded  her.  But  neither  of  us  were  prepared  for  the 
chase  that  afternoon,  and  Shaw,  like  myself,  had  no  spare  bullets 
in  his  pouch ;  so  he  abandoned  the  disabled  animal  to  Henry  Chatil- 
lon,  who  followed,  dispatched  her  with  his  rifle,  and  loaded  his 
horse  with  her  meat. 

We  encamped  close  to  the  river.  The  night  was  dark,  and  as 
we  lay  down  ye  could  hear  mingled  with  the  h(jwling  of  wolves 
the  hoarse  bellowing  of  the  buffalo,  like  the  ocean  beating  upon 
a  distant  coast. 


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Chapter  XXV 
THE  IJUFFALO  CAMP 


& 


^ 


!    U 


'Mill 


•T" 


No  ONE  in  the  camp  was  more  active  than  Jim  Gurney,  and  no 
one  half  so  lazy  as  Ellis.  Between  these  two  thfe^c  was  a  gre^t  gntip. 
athy.  Ellis  never  stirred  in  the  mbrnmg  until  he  was  compelled 
"-"tu,'tiat  Jim  was  always  on  his  feet  before  daybreak ;  and  this  morn- 
ing as  usual  the  sound  of  his  voice  awakened  the  party. 

"Get  up,  you  booby!  up  with  you  now,  you're  fit  for  nothing 
but  eating  and  sleeping.  Stop  your  grumbling  and  come  out  of  that 
butl'alo  robe  or  I'll  pull  it  off  for  you.*' 

Jim's  words  were  interspersed  with  numerous  expletives,  which 
gave  them  great  additional  effect.  Ellis  drawled  out  something  in 
a  nasal  tone  from  among  the  folds  of  his  buffalo  robe;  then  slowly 
disengaged  himself,  rose  into  sitting  posture,  stretched  his  long 
arms,  yawned  hideously,  and  finally,  raising  his  tall  person  erect, 
stood  staring  round  him  to  all  the  four  quarters  of  the  horizon. 
Delorier's  fire  was  soon  blazing,  and  the  horses  and  mules,  loosened 
from  their  pickets,  were  feeding  in  the  neighboring  meadow.  When 
we  sat  down  to  breakfast  the  prairie  was  still  in  the  dusky  light 
of  morning ;  and  as  the  sun  rose  we  were  mounted  and  on  our  way 
again. 

"A  white  buffalo!"  exclaimed  Munroe. 

*T11  have  that  fellow,"  said  Shaw,  "if  I  run  my  horse  to  death 
after  him." 

He  threw  the  cover  of  his  gun  to  Delorier  and  galloped  out  upon 
the  prairie. 

"Stop,  Mr.  Shaw,  stop!"  called  out  Henry  Chatillon,  "you'll  run 
down  your  horse  for  notliing ;  it's  only  a  white  ox." 

But  Shaw  was  already  oi't  of  hearing.  The  ox,  who  had  no 
doubt  ?^.iayed  away  from  some  of  the  government  wagon  trains, 
was  Stan  i in;:;  !)eneath  some  low  hills  which  bounded  the  plain  in 
the  distance.  Not  far  from  him  a  band  of  veritable  buffalo  bulls 
were  p,rp,.:iig:  and  startled  at  Siiaw's  approach,  they  all  broke  into 
a  run,  a;  d  ,  etr=;  scran.!;iinsy  up  the  hillsides  to  gain  the  high  prairie 
above.  Vne  **{  mem  in  his  liaste  and  terror  involved  himself  in  a 
fatal  caiastVv^h* .   \[oug  the  foot  of  the  hills  was  a  narrow  strip 


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of  deep  marshy  soil,  into  which  the  bull  plunged  and  hopelessly 
entangled  himself.  We  all  rode  up  to  the  spot.  The  huge  carcass 
was  half  sunk  in  the  mud,  which  flowed  to  his  very  chin,  and  his 
shaggy  mane  was  outspread  upon  the  surface.  As  we  came  near 
tlic  bull  began  to  struggle  with  convulsive  strength ;  he  writhed  to 
and  fro,  and  in  the  energy  of  his  fright  and  desperation  would  lift 
himself  for  a  moment  half  out  of  the  slough,  while  the  reluctant 
mire  returned  a  sucking  sound  as  he  strained  to  drag  his  limbs 
from  its  tenacious  depths.  We  stimulated  his  exertions  by  getting 
behind  him  and  twisting  his  tail ;  nothing  would  do.  There  was 
clearly  no  hope  for  him.  After  every  effort  his  heaving  sides  were 
more  deeply  imbedded  and  the  mire  almost  overflowed  his  nostrils ; 
he  lay  still  at  length,  and  looking  round  at  us  with  a  furious  eye, 
seemed  to  resign  himself  to  his  fate.  Ellis  slowly  dismounted,  and 
deliberately  leveling  his  boasted  yager,  shot  the  old  bull  through 
the  heart;  then  he  lazily  climbed  back  again  to  his  seat,  pluming 
himself  no  doubt  on  having  actually  killed  a  buffalo.  That  day  the 
invincible  yager  drew  blood  for  the  first  and  last  time  during  the 
whole  journey. 

The  morning  was  a  bright  and  gay  one,  and  the  air  so  clear  that 
on  the  farthest  horizon  the  outline  of  the  pale  blue  prairie  was 
sharply  drawn  against  the  sky.  Shaw  felt  in  the  mood  for  hunting ; 
Ihe  rode  in  advance  of  the  party,  and  before  long  we  saw  a  file  tf 
bulls  galloping  at  full  speed  upon  a  vast  green  swell  of  the  prairie 
at  some  distance  in  front.  Shaw  came  scouring  along  behind  them, 
arrayed  in  his  red  shirt,  which  looked  very  well  in  the  tance; 
he  gained  fast  on  the  fugitives,  and  as  the  foremost  bull  v  disap- 
pearing behind  the  summit  of  the  swell,  we  saw  him  in  he  act  of 
assailing  the  hindmost;  a  smoke  sprang  from  the  muz  le  of  his 
gun,  and  floated  away  before  the  wind  like  a  little  whit  -loud ;  the 
bull  turned  upon  him,  and  just  then  the  rising  groun  i  concealed 
I  them  both  from  view. 

vVe  were  moving  forward  until  about  noon,  when  wi  stopped 
I  by  the  side  of  the  Arkansas.  At  that  moment  Shaw  api)eared  rid- 
ing slowly  down  the  side  of  a  distant  hill ;  his  horse  was  tired  and 
jaded,  and  when  he  threw  his  saddle  upon  the  ground,  I  ;  bserved 
that  the  tails  of  two  bulls  were  dangling  behind  it.  No  sooner  were 
the  horses  turned  loose  to  feed  than  Henry,  asking  Munroe  to  go 
with  him,  took  his  rifle  and  walked  quietly  away.    Shaw,  Tete 


II 


268 


The  Oregon  Trail 


l! 


J       ■4: 


:  :r 


l!4 


Rouge,  and  I  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the  cart  to  discuss  the  dinnerl 
which  Delorier  placed  before  us;  we  had  scarcely  finished  whenl 
we  saw  Munroe  walking  toward  us  along  the  river  bank.  Henry, 
he  said,  had  killed  four  fat  cows,  and  had  sent  him  back  for  horsesl 
to  bring  in  the  meat.  Shaw  took  u  horse  for  himself  and  another  fori 
Henry,  and  he  and  Munroe  left  the  camp  together.  After  a  shortl 
absence  all  three  of  them  came  back,  their  horses  loaded  with  thel 
choicest  parts  of  the  meat ;  we  kept  two  of  the  cows  for  ourselves! 
and  gave  the  others  to  Munroe  and  his  companions.  Delorier  seatec 
himself  on  the  grass  before  the  pile  of  meat,  and  worked  indus- 
triously for  some  time  to  cut  it  into  thin  broad  sheets  for  drying.! 
This  is  no  easy  matter,  but  Delorier  had  all  the  skill  of  an  Indiai 
squaw.  Long  before  night  cords  of  raw  hide  were  stretched  arounc 
the  camp,  and  the  meat  was  hung  upon  them  to  dry  in  the  sun- 
shine and  pure  air  of  the  prairie.  Our  California  companions  wer< 
less  i^uccessful  at  the  work;  but  they  accomplished  it  after  theii 
own  fashion,  and  their  side  of  the  camp  was  soon  garnished  ii 
the  sair.';  manner  as  our  own. 

We  meant  to  remain  at  this  place  long  enough  to  prepare  pro- 
visions for  our  journey  to  the  frontier,  which  as  we  supposed  might 
occupy  about  a  month.  Had  the  distance  been  twice  as  great  anc 
the  party  ten  times  as  large,  the  unerring  rifle  of  Henry  Chatillor 
would  have  supplied  meat  enough  for  the  whole  within  two  days; 
we  were  obliged  to  remain,  however,  until  it  should  be  dry  cnougl 
for  transportation;  so  we  erected  our  tent  and  made  the  othci 
arrangements  for  a  permanent  camp.  The  California  men,  whc 
had  no  such  shelter,  contented  themselves  with  arranging  theii 
packs  on  the  grass  around  their  fire.  In  the  meantime  we  had  noth^ 
lAg  to  do  but  amuse  ourselves.  Our  tent  was  within  a  rod  of  th< 
river,  if  the  broad  sand-beds,  with  a  scanty  stream  of  water  cours^ 
ing  here  and  there  along  their  surface,  deserve  to  be  dignified  wit! 
the  name  of  river.  The  vast  flat  plains  on  either  side  were  almos 
on  a  level  with  the  sand-beds,  and  they  were  bounded  in  the  dis^ 
tance  by  low,  monotonous  hills,  parallel  to  the  course  of  the  Arkan^ 
sas.  All  was  one  expanse  of  grass;  there  was  no  wood  in  vie\ 
except  some  trees  and  stunted  bushes  upon  two  islands  which  ros^ 
from  amid  the  wet  sands  of  the  river.  Yet  far  from  being  dull  an( 
tame  this  boundless  scene  was  often  a  wild  and  animated  one ;  fo^ 
twice  a  day,  at  sunrise  and  at  noon,  the  buffalo  came  issuing  fror 


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the  hillsv  slowly  advancing  in  their  grave  processions  to  drink  at 
the  river.  All  our  amusements  were  too  at  their  expense.  Except 
an  elephant,  I  have  seen  no  animal  that  can  surpass  a  buffalo  bull 
in  size  and  strength,  and  the  world  may  be  searched  in  vain  to 
find  anything  of  a  more  ugly  and  ferocious  aspect.  At  first  sight 
of  him  every  feeling  of  sympathy  vanishes ;  no  man  who  has  not 
experienced  it  can  understand  with  what  keen  relish  one  inflicts 
his  death  wound,  with  what  profound  contentment  of  mind  he  be- 
holds him  fall.  The  cows  are  much  smaller  and  of  a  gentler  ap- 
pearance, as  becomes  their  sex.  While  in  this  camp  we  forebore 
to  attack  them,  leaving  to  Henry  Chatillon,  who  could  better  judge 
their  fatness  and  good  quality,  the  task  of  killing  such  as  v»*e 
wanted  for  use;  but  against  the  bulls  we  waged  an  unrelenting 
war.  Thousands  of  them  might  be  slaughtered  without  causing  any 
detriment  to  the  species,  for  their  numbers  greatly  exceed  those 
of  the  cows ;  it  is  the  hide:  of  the  latter  alone  which  are  used  for 
purpose  of  commerce  and  for  making  the  lodges  of  the  Indians; 
and  the  destruction  among  them  is  therefore  altogether  dispro- 
portioned. 

Our  horses  were  tired,  and  we  now  usually  hunted  oii  foot.  The 
wide,  flat  sand-beds  of  the  Arkansas,  as  the  reader  will  remember, 
lay  close  by  the  side  of  our  camp.  While  we  were  lying  on  the 
grass  after  dinner,  smoking,  conversing,  or  laughing  at  Tete  Rouge, 
one  of  us  would  look  up  and  observe,  far  out  on  the  plains  beyond 
the  river,  certain  black  objects  slowly  approaching.  He  would  in- 
hale a  parting  whiff  from  the  pipe,  then  rising  lazily,  take  his  rifle, 
which  leaned  against  the  cart,  throw  over  his  shoulder  the  strap 
of  his  pouch  and  powder-horn,  and  with  his  moccasins  in  his  hand 
walk  quietly  across  the  sand  toward  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 
This  was  very  easy ;  for  though  the  sands  were  about  a  quarter  of 
I  a  mile  wide,  the  water  was  nowhere  more  than  two  feet  deep.  The 
farther  bank  was  about  four  or  five  feet  high,  and  quite  perpendic- 
ular, being  cut  away  by  the  water  in  spring.  Tall  grass  grew  along 
its  edge.  Putting  it  aside  with  his  hand,  and  cautiously  looking 
through  it,  the  hunter  can  discern  the  huge  shaggy  back  of  the 
buiTalo  slowly  swaying  to  and  fro,  as  with  his  clumsy  swinging 
"[  ?ait  he  advances  toward  the  water.  The  buffalo  have  regular  paths 
bv  which  they  come  down  to  drink.  Seeing  at  a  glance  along  which 
of  these  hi$  intended  victim  is  moving,  the  hunter  crouches  under 


I' 


270 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I 


1,  ^  1 


lil'  " 


the  bank  within  fifteen  or  twenty  yards,  it  may  be,  of  the  point] 
where  the  path  enters  the  river.  Here  he  sits  down  quietly  on  the 
sand.  Listening  intently,  he  hears  the  heavy  monotonous  tread  of 
the  approaching  bull.  The  moment  after  he  sees  a  motion  among 
the  long  weeds  and  grass  just  at  the  spot  where  the  path  is  chan-l 
neled  through  the  bank.  An  enormous  black  head  is  thrust  out, 
the  horns  just  visible  amid  the  mass  oi  tangled  mane.  Half  slidini^J 
half  plunging,  down  comes  the  buffalo  upon  the  river-bed  below. 
He  steps  out  in  full  sight  upon  the  sands.  Just  before  him  a  runnell 
of  water  is  gliding,  and  he  bends  his  head  to  drink.  You  may  hear  I 
the  water  as  it  gurgles  down  his  capacious  throat.  He  raises  hisl 
head,  anvi  the  drops  trickle  from  his  wet  beard   He  stands  with  anl 
air  of  stupid  abstraction,  unconscious  of  the  lurking  danger.  Noise-| 
lessly  the  hunter  :ocks  his  rifle.  As  he  sits  upon  the  sand,  his  kne< 
is  raised,  and  his  elbow  rests  upon  it,  that  he  may  level  his  heavj 
weapon  with  a  steadier  aim.  The  stock  is  at  his  shoulder ;  his  eyi 
ranges  along  the  barrel.  Still  he  is  in  no  haste  to  fire.  Tiie  bull, 
with  slow  deliberation,  begins  his  march  over  the  sands  to  th< 
other  side.  He  advances  his  fore-leg,  and  exposes  to  view  a  small 
spot,  denuded  of  hair,  just  behind  the  point  of  his  shoulder;  upor 
this  the  hunter  brings  the  sight  of  his  rifle  tq  bear;  lightly  anc 
delicately  his  finger  presses  upon  the  hair-trigger.  Quick  as  though! 
the  spiteful  crack  of  the  rifle  responds  to  his  slight  touch,  anc 
instantly  in  the  a  iddle  of  the  bare  spot  appears  a  small  red  dotj 
The  buffalo  shivers ;  death  has  overtaken  him,  he  cannot  tell  f ror 
whence ;  still  he  does  not  fall,  but  walks  heavily  forward,  as  il 
nothing  had  happened.  Yet  before  he  has  advanced  far  out  upoi 
the  sand,  you  see  him  stop ;  he  totters ;  his  knees  bend  under  hinJ 
and  his  head  sinks  forward  to  the  ground.  Then  his  whole  vas^ 
bulk  sways  to  one  side ;  he  rolls  over  on  the  sand,  and  dies  with 
scarcely  perceptible  struggle 

Waylaying  the  buffalo  in  this  manner,  and  shooting  them 
they  come  to  water,  is  the  easiest  and  laziest  method  of  huntinj 
them.  They  may  also  be  approached  by  crawling  up  ravines,  o^ 
behind  hills,  or  even  over  the  open  prairie.  This  is  often  surprij 
ingly  easy;  but  at  other  times  it  requires  the  utmost  skill  of  th^ 
most  experienced  hunter.  Henry  Chatillon  was  a  man  of  extrs 
ordinary  strength  and  hardihood ;  but  I  have  seen  him  return  t^ 
camp  quite  exhausted  with  his  efforts,  his  limbs  scratched  ani 


The  Oregon  Trail 


271 


wounded,  and  his  buckskin  dress  stuck  full  of  the  thorns  of  the 
prickly-pear  among  which  he  had  been  crawling.  Sometimes  he 
would  lay  flat  upon  his  face,  and  drag  himself  along  in  this  posi- 
tion for  many  rods  together. 

On  the  second  day  of  our  stay  at  this  place,  Henry  went  out  for 
an  afternoon  hunt.  Shaw  and  I  remained  in  camp  until,  observing 
some  bulls  approaching  the  water  upon  the  other  side  of  the  river, 
we  crossed  over  to  attack  them.  They  were  so  near,  however,  that 
before  we  could  get  under  cover  of  the  bank  our  appearance  as 
we  walked  over  the  sands  alarmed  them.  Turning  round  before 
coming  within  gunshot,  they  began  to  move  off  to  the  right  in 
a  direction  parallel  to  the  river.  I  climbed  up  the  bank  and  ran 
after  them.  They  were  walking  swiftly,  and  before  I  could  come 
within  gunshot  distance  they  slowly  wheeled  alK)ut  and  faced  to- 
ward me.  Before  they  had  turned  far  enough  to  see  me  I  had 
fallen  flat  on  my  face.  For  a  moment  they  stood  and  stared  at  the 
strange  object  upon  the  grass ;  then  turning  away,  again  they 
walked  on  as  before;  and  I,  rising  immediately,  ran  once  more  in 
pursuit.  Again  they  wheeled  about,  and  again  I  fell  prostrate.  Re- 
peating this  three  of  four  times,  I  came  at  length  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  fugitives,  and  as  I  saw  them  turning  again  I  sat  down 
and  leveled  my  rifle.  The  one  in  the  center  was  the  largest  I  had 
ever  seen.  I  shot  him  behind  the  shoulder.  His  two  companions  ran 
off.  He  attempted  to  follow,  but  soon  came  to  a  stand,  and  at 
length  lay  down  as  quietly  as  an  ox  chewing  the  cud.  Cautiously 
approaching  him,  I  saw  by  his  dull  and  jellylike  eye  that  he  was 
dead. 

When  I  began  the  chase,  the  prairie  was  almost  tenantless ;  but 
a  great  multitude  of  buffalo  had  suddenly  thronged  upon  it,  and 
looking  up,  I  saw  within  fifty  rods  a  heavy,  dark  column  stretching 
to  the  right  and  left  as  far  as  I  could  see.  I  walked  toward  them. 
My  approach  did  not  alarm  them  in  the  least.  The  column  itself 
consisted  entirely  of  cows  and  calves,  but  a  great  many  old  bulls 
were  ranging  about  the  prairie  on  its  flank,  and  as  I  drew  near  they 
faced  toward  me  with  such  a  shaggy  and  ferocious  look  that  1 
thought  it  best  to  proceed  no  farther.  Indeed  I  was  already  within 
close  rifle-shot  of  the  column,  and  I  sat  down  on  the  ground  to 
watch  their  movements.  Sometimes  the  whole  would  stand  still, 
their  heads  all  facing  one  way ;  then  they  would  trot  forward,  as 


272 


The  Oregon  Trail 


'i  I 


■\i 


if  by  a  common  impulse,  their  hoofs  and  horns  clattering  together 
as  they  moved.  I  soon  began  to  hear  at  a  distance  on  the  left  the 
sharp  reports  of  a  rifle,  again  and  again  repeated;  and  not  lonj^ 
after,  dull  and  heavy  sounds  succeeded,  which  I  recognized  as  the 
familiar  voice  of  Shaw's  double-barreled  gun.  When  Henry's  rifle 
was  at  work  there  was  always  meat  to  be  brought  in.  I  went  back 
across  the  river  for  a  horse,  and  returning,  reached  the  spot  where 
the  hunters  were  standing.  The  buflfalo  were  visible  on  the  distant 
prairie.  The  living  had  retreated  from  the  ground,  but  ten  or 
twelve  carcasses  were  scattered  in  various  directions.  Henry,  knife 
in  hand,  was  stooping  over  a  dead  cow,  cutting  away  the  best  and 
fattest  of  the  meat. 

When  Shaw  left  me  he  had  walked  down  for  some  distance 
under  the  river  bank  to  find  another  bull.  At  length  he  saw  the 
plains  covered  with  the  host  of  buflfalo,  and  soon  after  heard  the 
crack  of  Henry's  rifle.  Ascending  the  bank,  he  crawled  through 
the  grass,  which  for  a  rod  or  two  from  the  river  was  very  high 
and  rank.  He  had  not  crawled  far  before  to  his  astonishment  he 
saw  Henry  standing  erect  upon  the  prairie,  almost  surrounded 
by  the  buflfalo.  Henry  was  in  his  appropriate  element.  Nelson,  on 
the  deck  of  the  Victory,  hardly  felt  a  prouder  sense  of  mastery 
than  he.  Quite  unconscious  that  any  one  was  looking  at  him,  he 
stood  at  the  full  height  of  his  tall,  strong  figure,  one  hand  resting 
upon  his  side,  and  the  other  arm  leaning  carelessly  on  the  muzzle 
of  his  rifle.  His  eyes  were  ranging  over  the  singular  assemblage 
around  him.  Now  and  then  he  would  select  such  a  cow  as  suited 
him,  level  his  rifle,  and  shoot  her  dead ;  then  quietly  reloading,  he 
would  resume  his  former  position.  The  buflfalo  seemed  no  more 
to  regard  his  presence  than  if  he  were  one  of  themselves ;  the  bulls 
were  bellowing  and  butting  at  each  other,  or  else  rolling  about  in 
the  dust.  A  group  of  buflfalo  would  gather  about  the  carcass  of  a 
dead  cow,  snuflfing  at  her  wounds  ;  and  sometimes  they  would  come 
behind  those  that  had  not  yet  fallen,  and  endeavor  to  push  them 
from  the  spot.  Now  and  then  some  old  bull  would  face  toward 
Henry  with  an  air  of  stupid  amazement,  but  none  seemed  inclined] 
to  attack  or  fly  from  him.  For  some  time  Shaw  lay  among  the 
grass,  looking  in  surprise  at  this  extraordinary  sight ;  at  length  he  j 
crawled  cautiously  forward,  and  spoke  in  a  low  voice  to  Henry, 
who  told  him  to  rise  and  come  on.  Still  the  buflfalo  showed  no  sign 


The  Oregon  Trail 


273 


of  fear;  they  remained  gathered  about  their  dead  companions. 
I  Icnry  had  already  killed  as  many  cows  as  we  wanted  for  use,  and 
Shaw,  kneeling  behind  one  of  the  carcasses,  shot  five  bulls  before 
the  rest  thought  it  necessary  to  disperse. 

The  frequent  stupidity  and  infatuation  of  the  buflFalo  seems  the 
more  remarkable  from  the  contrast  it  offers  to  their  wildncss  and 
wariness  at  other  times.  Henry  knew  all  their  peculiarities ;  he  had 
studied  them  as  a  scholar  studies  his  books,  and  he  derived  quite 
as  much  pleasure  from  the  occupation.  The  buffalo  were  a  kind  of 
companions  to  him,  and,  as  he.  said,  he  never  felt  alone  when  they 
were  about  him.  He  took  great  pride  in  his  skill  in  hunting.  Henry 
was  one  of  the  most  modest  of  men ;  yet,  in  the  simplicity  and 
frankness  of  his  character,  it  was  quite  clear  that  he  looked  upon 
his  pre-eminence  in  this  respect  as  a  thing  too  palpable  and  well 
established  ever  to  be  disputed.  But  whatever  may  have  been  his 
estimate  of  his  own  skill,  it  was  rather  below  than  above  that  which 
others  placed  upon  it.  The  only  time  that  I  ever  saw  a  shade  of 
scorn  darken  his  face  was  when  two  volunteer  soldiers,  who  had 
just  killed  a  buflfalo  for  the  first  time,  undertook  to  instruct  him 


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as  to  the  best  method  of  "approaching."  To  borrow  an  illustration  7\.!J 


from  an  opposite  side  of  life,  an  Eton  boy  might  as  well  have 
sought  to  enlighten  Porson  on  the  formation  of  a  Greek  verb,  or 
a  Fleet  Street  shopkeeper  to  instruct  Chesterfield  concerning  a 
point  of  etiquette.  Henry  always  seemed  to  think  that  he  had  a 
sort  of  prescriptive  right  to  the  bufifalo,  and  to  look  upon  them  a^ 
something  belonging  peculiarly  to  himself.  Nothing  excited  hhiV  ) 
indignation  so  much  as  any  wanton  destruction  committed  amongf' ^^x 
the  cows,  and  in  his  view  shooting  a  calf  was  a  cardinal  sin. 

Henry  Chi.tillon  and  Tete  Rouge  were  of  ttlT'sameage ;  that  is, 
about  thirty.  Henry  was  twice  as  large,  and  fully  six  times  as 
strong  as  Tete  Rouge.  Henry's  face  was  roughened  by  winds  and 
storms;  Tete  Rouge's  was  bloated  by  sherry  cobblers  and  brandy 
toddy.  Henry  talked  of  Indians  and  buffalo ;  Tete  Rouge  of  thea- 
ters and  oyster  cellars.  Henry  had  led  a  life  of  hardship  and  priva- 
tion; Tete  Rouge  never  had  a  whim  which  he  would  not  gratify 
at  the  first  moment  he  was  able.  Henry  moreover  was  the  most 
disinterested  man  I  ever  saw ;  while  Tete  Rouge,  though  equally 
good-natured  in  his  way,  cared  for  nobody  but  himself.  Yet  we 
would  not  have  lost  him  on  any  account :  he  admirably  served  the 


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purpose  of  a  jester  in  a  feudal  castle ;  our  camp  would  have  been 
lifeless  without  him.  For  the  past  week  he  had  fatten»ifl  in  a  most 
amazing  manner ;  and  indeed  this  was  not  at  all  surprising,  since 
his  appetite  was  most  inordinate.  He  was  eating  from  morning 
till  night ;  half  the  time  he  would  be  at  work  cooking  some  private 
repast  for  himself,  and  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  coffee-pot  eight  or  ten 
times  a  day.  His  rueful  and  disconsolate  face  became  jovial  and 
rubicund,  his  eyes  stood  out  like  a  lobster's,  and  his  spirits,  which 
before  were  sunk  to  the  depths  of  despondency,  were  now  elated 
in  proportion;  all  day  he  was  singing,  whistling,  laughing,  and 
telling  stories.  Being  mortally  afraid  of  Jim  Gurney,  he  kept  close 
in  the  neighborhood  of  our  tent.  As  he  had  seen  an  abundance  of 
low  dissipated  life,  and  had  a  considerable  fund  of  humor,  his 
anecdotes  were  extremely  amusing,  especially  since  he  never  hesi- 
tated to  place  himself  in  a  ludicrous  point  of  view,  provided  he 
could  raise  a  laugh  by  doing  so.  Tete  Rouge,  however,  was  some- 
times rather  troublesome;  he  had  an  inveterate  habit  of  pilfering 
provisions  at  all  times  of  the  day.  He  set  ridicule  at  utter  defiance ; 
and  being  without  a  particle  of  self-respect,  he  would  never  have 
given  over  his  tricks,  even  if  they  had  drawn  upon  him  the  scorn 
of  the  whole  party.  Now  and  then,  indeed,  something  worse  than 
laughter  fell  to  his  share;  on  these  occasions  he  would  exhibit 
much  contrition,  but  half  an  hour  after  we  would  generally  ob- 
serve him  stealing  round  to  the  box  at  the  back  of  the  cart  and 
slyly  making  off  with  the  provisions  which  Delorier  had  laid  by 
for  supper.  He  was  very  fond  of  smoking ;  but  having  no  tobacco 
of  his  own,  we  used  to  provide  him  with  as  much  as  he  wanted,  a 
small  piece  at  a  time.  At  first  we  gave  him  half  a  pound  together, 
but  this  experiment  proved  an  entire  failure,  for  he  invariably  lost 
not  only  the  tobacco,  but  the  knife  intrusted  to  him  for  cutting  it, 
and  a  few  minutes  after  he  would  come  to  us  with  many  apologies 
and  beg  for  more. 

We  had  been  two  days  at  this  camp,  and  some  of  the  meat  was  j 
nearly  fit  for  transportation,  when  a  storm  came  suddenly  upon  us.  j 
About  sunset  the  whole  sky  grew  as  black  as  ink,  and  the  long  grass 
at  the  river's  edge  bent  and  rose  mournfully  with  the  first  gusts  of 
the    approaching    hurricane.    Munroe   and   his   two   companions] 
brought  their  guns  and  placed  them  under  cover  of  our  tent.  Hav- 


v1 


The  Oregon  Trail 


275 


ing  no -shelter  for  themselves,  they  built  a  fire  of  driftwood  that 
might  have  defied  a  cataract,  and  wrapped  in  their  buflFalo  robes, 
sat  on  the  ground  around  it  to  bide  the  fury  of  the  storm.  Delorier 
ensconced  himself  under  the  cover  of  the  cart.  Shaw  and  I,  to- 
gether  with  Henry  and  Tete  Rouge,  crowded  into  the  little  tent; 
but  first  of  all  the  dried  meat  was  piled  together,  and  well  protected 
by  buffalo  robes  pinned  firmly  to  the  ground.  About  nine  o'clock 
the  storm  broke,  amid  absolute  darkness ;  it  blew  a  gale,  and  tor- 
rents of  rain  roared  over  the  boundless  expanse  of  open  prairie. 
Our  tent  was  filled  with  mist  and  spray  beating  through  the  canvas, 
and  saturating  everything  within.  We  could  only  distinguish  each 
other  at  short  intervals  by  the  dazzling  flash  of  lightning,  which  dis- 
played the  whole  waste  around  us  with  its  momentary  glare.  We 
had  our  fears  for  the  tent ;  bitt  for  an  hour  or  two  it  stood  fast,  until 
at  length  the  cap  gave  way  before  a  furious  blast ;  the  pole  tore 
through  the  top,  and  in  an  instant  we  were  half  suffocated  by  the 
cold  and  dripping  folds  of  the  canvas,  which  fell  down  upon  us. 
Seizing  upon  our  guns,  we  placed  them  erect,  in  order  to  lift  the 
saturated  cloth  above  our  heads.  In  this  disagreeable  situation,  in- 
volved among  wet  blankets  and  buffalo  robes,  we  spent  several 
hours  of  the  night  during  which  the  storm  would  not  abate  for  a 
moment,  but  pelted  down  above  our  heads  with  merciless  fury.  Be- 
fore long  the  ground  beneath  us  became  soaked  with  moisture,  and 
the  water  gathered  there  in  a  pool  two  or  three  inches  deep ;  so  that 
for  a  considerable  part  of  the  night  we  were  partially  immersed  in  a 
cold  bath.  In  spite  of  all  this,  Tete  Rouge's  flow  of  spirits  did  not 
desert  him  for  an  instant,  he  laughed,  whistled,  and  sung  in  defiance 
of  the  storm,  and  that  night  he  paid  off  the  long  arrears  of  ridicule 
which  he  owed  us.  While  we  lay  in  silence,  enduring  the  infliction 
with  what  philosophy  we  could  muster,  Tete  Rouge,  who  was  in- 
toxicated with  animal  spirits,  was  cracking  jokes  at  our  expense 
by  the  hour  together.  At  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  "pre- 
ferring the  tyranny  of  the  open  night"  to  such  a  wretched  shelter, 
we  crawled  out  from  beneath  the  fallen  canvas.  The  wind  had 
abated,  but  the  rain  fell  steadily.  The  fire  of  the  California  men 
still  blazed  amid  the  darkness,  and  we  joined  them  as  they  sat 
around  it.  We  made  ready  some  hot  coffee  by  way  of  refreshment ; 
but  when  some  of  the  party  sought  to  replenish  their  cups,  it  was 


276 


The  Oregon  Trail 


found  that  Tete  Rouge,  having  disposed  of  his  own  share,  had 
privately  abstracted  the  coffee-pot  and  drank  up  the  rest  of  the 
contents  out  of  the  spout. 

In  the  morning,  to  our  great  joy,  an  unclouded  sun  rose  upon  the 
prairie.  We  presented  rather  a  laughable  appearance,  for  the  cold 
and  clammy  buckskin,  saturated  with  water,  clung  fast  to  our 
limbs ;  the  light  wind  and  warm  sunshine  soon  dried  them  again, 
and  then  we  were  all  incased  in  armor  of  intolerable  rigidity.  Roam- 
ing all  day  over  the  prairie  and  shooting  two  or  three  bulls,  were 
scarcely  enough  to  restore  the  stiffened  leather  to  its  usual  pliancy. 

Besides  Henry  Chatillon,  Shaw  and  I  were  the  only  hunters  in 
the  party.  Munroe  this  morning  made  an  attempt  to  run  a  buffalo, 
but  his  horse  could  not  come  up  to  the  game.  Shaw  went  out  with 
him,  and  being  better  mounted  soon  found  himself  in  the  midst  of 
the  herd.  Seeing  nothing  but  cows  and  calves  around  him,  he 
checked  his  horse.  An  old  bull  came  galloping  on  the  open  prairie 
at  some  distance  behind,  and  turning,  Shaw  rode  across  his  path, 
leveling  his  gun  as  he  passed,  and  shooting  him  through  the  shoul- 
der into  the  heart.  The  heavy  bullets  of  Shaw's  double-barreled  gun 
made  wild  work  wherever  they  struck. 

A  great  flock  of  buzzards  were  usually  soaring  about  a  few  trees 
that  stood  on  the  island  just  below  our  camp.  Throughout  the  whole 
of  yesterday  we  had  noticed  an  eagle  among  them ;  to-day  he  was 
still  there ;  and  Tete  Rouge,  declaring  that  he  would  kill  the  bird 
of  America,  borrowed  Delorier's  gun  and  set  out  on  his  unpatriotic 
mission.  As  might  have  been  expected,  the  eagle  suffered  no  great 
harm  at  his  hands.  He  soon  returned,  saying  that  he  could  not  find 
him,  but  had  shot  a  buzzard  instead.  Being  required  to  produce  the 
bird  in  proof  of  his  assertion  he  said  he  believed  he  was  not  quite 
dead,  but  he  must  be  hurt,  from  the  swiftness  with  which  he  flew 
off. 

"If  you  want,"  said  Tete  Rouge,  'Til  go  and  get  one  of  his 
feathers ;  I  knocked  off  plenty  of  them  when  I  shot  him." 

Just  opposite  our  camp  was  another  island  covered  with  bushes, 
and  behind  it  was  a  deep  pool  of  water,  while  two  or  three  consid- 
erable streams  coursed  over  the  sand  not  far  off.  I  was  bathing  at 
this  place  in  the  afternoon  when  a  white  wolf,  larger  than  the 
largest  Newfoundland  dog,  ran  out  from  behind  the  point  of  the 
island,  and  galloped  leisurely  over  the  sand  not  half  a  stone's  throw 


distant 
snout ; 
and  ai 
stone  t 
his  ber 
ball  th 
jump 
a  mere 
that  by 
nioned 
Henry 
here  at 
sun.  1 1 
by  lyin 
Three 
and  the 
small  p 
howl  ar 
watchf 
within 
would  I 
grass.  1 
vultures 
upon  it, 
among 
or  three 
about  o 
as  they 
buzzard 
eagles  a 
the  cam 
hand,  ai 
by  these 
After 
leave  it. 
dried  m 
dred  mc 
or  nine 
and  the 


The  Oregon  Trail 


277 


share,  had 
est  of  the 

e  upon  the 
>r  the  cold 
ist  to  our 
lem  again, 
ity.  Roam- 
Dulls,  were 
lal  pHancy. 
hunters  in 
I  a  buffalo, 
It  out  with 
e  midst  of 
d  him,  he 
pen  prairie 
s  his  path, 
the  shoul- 
jreled  gun 


distant.  I  could  plainly  see  his  red  eyes  and  the  bristles  about  his 
snout;  he  was  an  ugly  scoundrel,  with  a  bushy  tail,  large  head, 
and  a  most  repulsive  countenance.  Having  neither  rifle  to  shoot  nor 
stone  to  pelt  him  with,  I  was  looking  eagerly  after  some  missile  for 
his  benefit,  when  the  report  of  a  gun  came  from  the  camp,  and  the 
ball  threw  up  the  sand  just  beyond  him ;  at  this  he  gave  a  slight 
jump,  and  stretched  away  so  swiftly  that  he  soon  dwindled  into 
a  mere  speck  on  the  distant  sand-beds.  The  number  of  carcasses 
that  by  this  time  were  lying  about  the  prairie  all  around  us  sum- 
moned the  wolves  from  every  quarter;  the  spot  where  Shaw  and 
Henry  had  hunted  together  soon  became  their  favorite  resort,  for 
here  about  a  dozen  dead  buffalo  were  fermenting  under  the  hot 
sun.  I  used  often  to  go  over  the  river  and  watch  them  at  their  meal ; 
by  lying  under  the  bank  it  was  easy  to  get  a  full  view  of  them. 
Three  different  kinds  were  present;  there  were  the  white  wolves 
and  the  gray  wolves,  both  extremely  large,  and  besides  these  the 
small  prairie  wolves,  not  much  bigger  than  spaniels.  They  would 
howl  and  fight  in  a  crowd  around  a  single  carcass,  yet  they  were  so** 
watchful,  and  their  senses  so  acute,  that  I  never  was  able  to  crawl 
within  a  fair  shooting  distance;  whenever  I  attempted  it,  they 
would  all  scatter  at  once  and  glide  silently  away  through  the  tall 
grass.  The  air  above  this  spot  was  always  full  of  buzzards  or  black 
vultures;  whenever  the  wolves  left  a  carcass  they  would  descend 
upon  it,  and  cover  it  so  densely  that  a  rifle-bullet  shot  at  random 
among  the  gormandizing  crowd  would  generally  strike  down  two 
or  three  of  them.  These  birds  would  now  be  sailing  by  scores  just 
about  our  camp,  their  broad  black  wings  seeming  half  transparent 
as  they  expanded  them  against  the  bright  sky.  The  wolves  and  the 
buzzards  thickened  about  us  with  every  hour,  and  two  or  three 
eagles  also  came  into  the  feast.  I  killed  a  bull  within  rifle-shot  of 
the  camp;  that  night  the  wolves  made  a  fearful  howling  close  at 
hand,  and  in  the  morning  the  carcass  was  completely  hollowed  out 
by  these  voracious  feeders. 

After  we  had  remained  four  days  at  this  camp  we  prepared  to 
leave  it.  We  had  for  our  own  part  about  five  hundred  pounds  of 
dried  meat,  and  the  California  men  had  prepared  some  three  hun- 
dred more ;  this  consisted  of  the  fattest  and  choicest  parts  of  eight 
or  nine  cows,  a  very  small  quantity  only  being  taken  from  each, 
and  the  rest  abandoned  to  the  wolves.  The  pack  animals  were  laden, 


•=¥ 


6 


278 


The  Oregon  Trail 


I'l 


.1 

.1) 

1 


the  horses  were  saddled,  and  the  mules  harnessed  to  the  cart.  Even 
Tete  Rouge  was  ready  at  last,  and  slowly  moving  from  the  ground, 
we  resumed  our  journey  eastward.  When  we  had  advanced  about  a 
mile,  Shaw  missed  a  valuable  hunting  knife  and  turned  back  in 
search  of  it,  thinking  that  he  had  left  it  at  the  camp.  He  approached 
the  place  cautiously,  fearful  that  Indians  might  be  lurking  about, 
for  a  deserted  camp  is  dangerous  to  return  to.  He  saw  no  enemy, 
but  the  scene  was  a  wild  and  dreary  one ;  the  prairie  was  overshad- 
owed by  dull,  leaden  clouds,  for  the  day  was  dark  and  gloomy.  The 
ashes  of  the  fires  were  still  smoking  by  the  river-side;  the  grass 
around  them  was  trampled  down  by  men  and  horses,  and  strewn 
with  all  the  litter  of  a  camp.  Our  departure  had  been  a  gathering 
signal  to  the  birds  and  beasts  of  prey ;  Shaw  assured  me  that  liter- 
ally dozens  of  wolves  were  prowling  about  the  smoldering  fires, 
while  multitudes  were  roaming  over  the  prairie  around;  they  all 
fled  as  he  approached,  some  running  over  the  sand-beds  and  some 
over  the  grassy  plains.  The  vultures  in  great  clouds  were  soaring 
overhead,  and  the  dead  bull  near  the  camp  was  completely  black- 
ened by  the  flock  that  had  alighted  upon  it ;  they  flapped  their  broad 
wings,  and  stretched  upward  their  crested  heads  and  long  skinny 
necks,  fearing  to  remain,  yet  reluctant  to  leave  their  disgusting 
feast.  As  he  searched  about  the  fires  he  saw  the  wolves  seated  on 
the  distant  hills  waiting  for  his  departure.  Having  looked  in  vain 
for  his  knife,  he  mounted  again,  and  left  the  wolves  and  the  vul- 
tures to  banquet  freely  upon  the  carrion  of  the  camp. 


Chapter  XXVI 
DOWN  THE  ARKANSAS 

In  THE  SUMMER  of  1 846  the  wild  and  lonely  banks  of  the  Upper 
Arkansas  beheld  for  the  first  time  the  passage  of  an  army.  General 
Kearny,  on  his  march  to  Santa  Fe,  adopted  this  route  in  preference 
to  the  old  trail  of  the  Cimarron.  When  we  came  down  the  main 
body  of  the  troops  had  already  passed  on;  Price's  Missouri  regi- 
ment, however,  was  still  on  the  way,  having  left  the  frontier  much 
later  than  the  rest;  and  about  this  time  we  began  to  meet  them 


movmg 

ever  en 

the  wo 

subordi 

less  inc 

ica,  it  ^ 

troops. 

precede 

of  milit 

spirit  o 

as  one 

more  lil^ 

modern 

phan  or 

reply  ve 

officers  < 

"I  doi 

to  me,  t 

told  thei 

know  ab 

The  b 

will  thai] 

serving  i 

better  ha 

At  the 

possible 

tion ;  the 

city  of  C 

and  defe 

invaders 

murmur 

they  rem 

they  shoi 

way  to  th 

men  hesii 

"Forw 

icans,  ru£ 

work.  Fc 

rest  fled,  i 


The  Oregon  Trail 


279 


moving  along  the  trail,  one  or  two  companies  at  a  time.  No  men 
ever  embarked  upon  a  military  expedition  with  a  greater  love  for 
the  work  before  them  than  the  Missourians ;  but  if  discipline  and 
subordination  be  the  criterion  of  merit,  these  soldiers  were  worth- 
less indeed.  Yet  when  their  exploits  have  rung  through  all  Amer- 
ica, it  would  be  absurd  to  deny  that  they  were  excellent  irregular 
troops.  Their  victories  were  gained  in  the  teeth  of  every  established 
precedent  of  warfare;  they  were  owing  to  a  singular  combination 
of  military  qualities  in  the  men  themselves.  Without  discipline  or  a 
spirit  of  subordination,  they  knew  how  to  keep  their  ranks  and  act 
as  one  man.  Doniphan's  regiment  marched  through  New  Mexico 
more  like  a  band  of  free  companions  than  like  the  paid  soldiers  of  a 
modern  government.  When  General  Taylor  complimented  Doni- 
phan on  his  success  at  Sacramento  and  elsewhere,  the  colonel's 
reply  very  well  illustrates  the  relations  which  subsisted  between  the 
officers  and  men  of  his  command : 

*T  don't  know  anything  of  the  maneuvers.  The  boys  kept  coming 
to  me,  to  let  them  charge ;  and  when  I  saw  a  good  opportunity,  I 
told  them  they  might  go.  They  were  off  like  a  shot,  and  that's  all  I 
I  know  about  it." 

The  backwoods  lawyer  was  better  fitted  to  conciliate  the  good- 
will than  to  command  the  obedience  of  his  men.  There  were  many 
serving  under  him,  who  both  from  character  and  education  could 
I  better  have  held  command  than  he. 

At  the  battle  of  Sacramento  his  frontiersmen  fought  under  every 
possible  disadvantage.  The  Mexicans  had  chosen  their  own  posi- 
tion ;  they  were  drawn  up  across  the  valley  that  led  to  their  native 
city  of  Chihuahua ;  their  whole  front  was  covered  by  intrenchments 
and  defended  by  batteries  of  heavy  cannon ;  they  outnumbered  the 
invaders  five  to  one.  An  eagle  flew  over  the  Americans,  and  a  deep 
murmur  rose  along  their  lines.  The  enemy's  batteries  opened ;  long 
they  remained  under  fire,  but  when  at  length  the  word  was  given, 
[they  shouted  and  ran  forward.  In  one  of  the  divisions,  when  mid- 
way to  the  enemy,  a  drunken  officer  ordered  a  halt ;  the  exasperated 
men  hesitated  to  obey. 

"Forward,  boys !"  cried  a  private  from  the  ranks ;  and  the  Amer- 
I  icans,  rushing  like  tigers  upon  the  enemy,  bounded  over  the  breast- 
work. Four  htmdred  Mexicans  were  slain  upon  the  spot  and  the 
rest  fled,  scattering  over  the  plain  like  sheep.  The  standards,  cannon, 


280 


The  Oregon  Trail 


It 


1. 

_     1     :    ■ 

r 

|: 

il-'S 


and  baggage  were  taken,  and  among  the  rest  a  wagon  laden  with 
cords,  which  the  Mexicans,  in  the  fullness  of  their  confidence,  had 
made  ready  for  tying  the  American  prisoners. 

Doniphan's  volunteers,  who  gained  this  victory,  passed  up  with 
the  main  army ;  but  Price's  soldiers,  whom  we  now  met,  were  men 
from  the  same  neighborhood,  precisely  similar  in  character,  man- 
ner, and  appearance.  One  forenoon,  as  we  were  descending  upon  a 
very  wide  meadow,  where  we  meant  to  rest  for  an  hour  or  two,  we 
saw  a  dark  body  of  horsemen  approaching  at  a  distance.  In  order  to 
find  water,  we  were  obliged  to  turn  aside  to  the  river  bank,  a  full 
half  mile  from  the  trail.  Here  we  put  up  a  kind  of  awning,  and 
spreading  buflFalo  robes  on  the  ground,  Shaw  and  I  sat  down  to 
smoke  beneath  it. 

"We  are  going  to  catch  it  now,"  said  Shaw ;  "look  at  those  fel- 
lows, there'll  be  no  peace  for  us  here." 

And  in  good  truth  about  half  the  volunteers  had  straggled  away 
from  the  line  of  march,  and  were  riding  over  the  meadow  to- 
ward us. 

"How  are  you  ?"  said  the  first  who  came  up,  alighting  from  his 
horse  and  throwing  himself  upon  the  ground.  The  rest  followed 
close,  and  a  score  of  them  soon  gathered  about  us,  some  lying  at 
full  length  and  some  sitting  on  horseback.  They  all  belonged  to  a 
company  raised  in  St.  Louis.  There  were  some  ruffian  faces  among 
them,  and  some  haggard  with  debauchery ;  but  on  the  whole  they 
were  extremely  good-looking  men,  superior  beyond  measure  to  the 
ordinary  rank  and  file  of  an  army.  Except  that  they  were  booted  to 
the  knees,  they  wore  their  belts  and  military  trappings  over  the 
ordinary  dress  of  citizens.  Besides  their  swords  and  holster  pistols, 
they  carried  slung  from  their  saddles  the  excellent  Springfield  car- 
bines, loaded  at  the  breech.  They  inquired  the  character  of  our 
party,  and  were  anxious  to  know  the  prospect  of  killing  buffalo, 
and  the  chance  that  their  horses  would  stand  the  journey  to  Santa 
Fe.  All  this  was  well  enough,  but  a  moment  after  a  worse  visitation 
came  upon  us. 

"How  are  you,  strangers  ?  whar  are  you  going  and  whar  are  you 
from  ?"  said  a  fellow,  who  came  trotting  up  with  an  old  straw  hat 
on  his  head.  He  was  dressed  in  the  coarsest  brown  homespun  cloth. 
His  face  was  rather  sallow  from  fever-and-ague,  and  his  tall  figure, 
though  strong  and  sinewy  was  quite  thin,  and  had  besides  an  angu- 


The  Oregon  Trail 


281 


lar  look,  which,  together  with  his  boorish  seat  on  horseback,  gave 
him  an  appearance  anything  but  graceful.  Plenty  more  of  the  same 
stamp  were  close  behind  him.  Their  company  was  raised  in  one  of 
the  frontier  counties,  and  we  soon  had  abundant  evidence  of  their 
rustic  breeding ;  dozens  of  them  came  crowding  round,  pushing  be- 
tween our  first  visitors  and  staring  at  us  with  unabashed  faces. 

"Are  you  the  captain  ?"  asked  one  fellow. 

"What's  your  business  out  here?"  asked  another. 

"Whar  do  you  live  when  you're  at  home?"  said  a  third. 

"I  reckon  you're  traders,"  surmised  a  fourth ;  and  to  crown  the 
whole,  one  of  them  came  confidentially  to  my  side  and  inquired  in  a 
low  voice,  "What's  your  partner's  name?" 

As  each  newcomer  repeated  the  same  questions,  the  nuisance  be- 
came intolerable.  Our  military  visitors  were  soon  disj.  isted  at  the 
concise  nature  of  our  replies,  and  we  could  overhear  them  mutter- 
ing curses  against  us.  While  we  sat  smoking,  not  in  the  best  imag- 
inable humor,  Tete  Rouge's  tongue  was  never  idle.  He  never  forgot 
his  military  character,  and  during  the  whole  interview  he  was  in- 
cessantly busy  among  his  fellow-soldiers.  At  length  we  placed  him 
on  the  ground  before  us,  and  told  him  that  he  might  play  the  part 
of  spokesman  for  the  whole.  Tete  Rouge  was  delighted,  and  we 
soon  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  talk  and  gabble  at  such  a 
rate  that  the  torrent  of  questions  was  in  a  great  measure  diverted 
from  us.  A  little  while  after,  to  our  amazement,  we  saw  a  large 
cannon  with  four  horses  come  lumbering  up  behind  the  crowd; 
and  the  driver,  who  was  perched  on  one  of  the  animals,  stretching 
his  neck  so  as  to  look  over  the  rest  of  the  men,  called  out : 

"Whar  are  you  from,  and  what's  your  business  ?" 

The  captain  of  one  of  the  companies  was  among  our  visitors, 
drawn  by  the  same  curiosity  that  had  attracted  his  men.  Unless 
their  faces  belied  them,  not  a  few  in  the  crowd  might  with  great 
advantage  have  changed  places  with  their  commander. 

"Well,  men,"  said  he,  lazily  rising  from  the  ground  where  he  had 
been  lounging,  "it's  getting  late,  I  reckon  we  had  better  be  moving.'* 

"I  shan't  start  yet  anyhow,"  said  one  fellow,  who  was  lying  half 
asleep  with  his  head  resting  on  his  arm. 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  captain,"  added  the  lieutenant. 

"Well,  have  it  your  own  way,  we'll  wait  a  while  longer,"  replied 
the  obsequious  commander. 


to*. 


Vwh  ( >ur:<;oN    THAn. 


p  -J 


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F;i  .! 


'I 


i'\! 


At  lcni:th  l<o\\('V(i  our  visiinm  \\v\\\  s1iMHiilinj;»  Mway  as  (liry  liail 
OMnr.  i\\\\\  \\'\\  \o  y\\\\  ^ir.\l  irlirl,  wvw  Iril  :\\\)\\v  a^ain. 

No  ono  ran  i\v\\\  ihv  inhopi^l  l>iav<M  v  nl  ihcsr  nuMi.  tln'ir  intrlli 
j^iMiro  aiul  tho  l)»»M  iratiUnrss  t>f  ihrir  »liaia»lor.  firr  frnin  all  Ih.il 
is  nioaii  a»wl  sor<li«l.  N  rt  1»m  tlu'  inmmMU  tlu'  cxhrmo  roti^hnrss  «tf 
tboir  niaiuuM V  |\al(  invlmos  nno  to  ior^iM  tluMi  luMnir  (pialitirs.  Musi 
of  tluMn  svv\\\  \vill\o\il  tl\<'  Ir.i'^t  |MMvr|>tion  ol  «|rliraiv  or  |nn|»rirl\. 
thon.cl^  runoni:  {\\c\\\  \\\\\\\u\\\;\h  niav  hv  I'oniiil  in  whoso  inainuMs 
tlinv  is  a  jMain  com  trsv.  winio  tlioir  i(\atnr(\s  luvspraK  a  gallant  spit  il 
c<^nal  to  any  ontiMjMiso. 

No  ono  was  nu)\v  \v\\v\c\\  than  Ooloiic.  hy  tlu'  (Icpailnn'  of  \\\v 
volnntons  ;  (or  ilitn\or  was  )4<Mtiii^  vohlrr  oNory  injHncnI.  I  \v  sprrnd 
a  woU  \v1ntono<l  hiitValo  hi«lo  \tpon  thr  ^vass,  plaroil  in  tlu'  middle 
the  juicy  hump  i>t  a  fat  cow,  landed  ar«nmd  it  the  tin  plates  and 
cups,  aiul  then  acvpiaintcil  ns  that  all  was  ready,  i'ctc  Kon^c.  willi 
his  usual  alacrity  vmi  snch  occasions,  was  the  first  to  take  his  seal. 
In  his  former  capacitx  o\  steamhoat  cKmU.  he  had  learned  to  prelix 
the  luMiorary  Mister  \o  everyhoily's  name,  whether  of  hi^h  or  low 
decree;  so  Jim  (,i\nney  was  Mr.  limtiey.  Henry  was  Mr.  Henry, 
nnd  oven  lVU>rier.  for  the  Inst  time  in  his  life,  heard  himself  ad 
diTsscd  as  Mr.  IVU^rier.  This  ilid  not  jirevent  his  conceiving  a 
violent  onnnty  a^aiiist  Vote  Konqe.  who.  in  his  futile  thouj^jh  praise 
worthy  attom]Ms  to  make  himself  useful,  used  always  to  inter- 
luoddlo  with  Ct>okini;  the  ilinnors.  Dolorier's  disposition  knew  no 
mciiium  Ih^woou  smiles  and  sunshine  and  a  downrij;ht  tornado  of 
wrath;  ho  saiii  nothinj;  ti>  Vote  l\ouj;o,  hut  his  wronjjs  rankled  in 
his  breast.  Tote  Koujio  ha<l  taken  his  place  at  diimor ;  it  was  his 
ha]>]MOst  moment ;  ho  sat  e!\veloi>cd  in  the  old  hutlalo  coat,  sleeves 
turned  up  in  pre]Xiration  for  the  work,  and  his  slu)rt  logs  crossed 
on  the  j;rass  Ivforo  him :  ho  had  a  cup  of  colToo  hy  his  side  and  his 
knife  ready  in  his  hand,  and  while  ho  looked  uixin  the  fat  hump 
ril\s.  his  eyes  dilated  with  antici|>ation.  Oolorier  sat  just  opposite  to 
him,  and  the  rest  of  us  hy  this  time  had  taken  our  seats, 

"How  is  this.  Delorior.^  Vo.\  haven't  given  us  bread  enough." 

At  this  l^elorier's  placid  face  flow"  instantly  into  a  paroxysm  of 
contortions.  Ho  grinned  with  wrath,  chattered,  gesticulated,  and 
hurled  forth  a  volley  of  incoherent  words  in  broken  English  at  the 
astonished  Tete  Rouge.  It  was  just  possible  to  make  out  that  he 
was  accusing  him  of  having  stolen  and  eaten  four  large  cakes  which 


Tmk  ( )«r<;()N   'I'm A f I. 


2KI 


llMil  Ihtm  |;ii(|  liy  fcu  (lilllirr.  '\v\r  \<n\\^r,  titlcrlv  rotifcKiriflrd  jit  \)u^ 
siidtlrn  Mllarh.  st.iirfl  af  I  )rlMrifi  fnr  n  iiiMmrnl  in  'liirrih  ;ifri?i/»'- 
mml.  willi  inmilli  nii<l  vvv^  witlc  Mprn  Al  lat^l  lir  foiiful  ^prrcli,  afi(l 
|»l«»M'sl<'(|  tl'al  llir  ai  ("iisalifMi  was  fahr  ;  and  tliaf  lir  roiild  ndf  inu- 
iv'wv  lu»w  lie  liad  Mllriidcd  Mr.  \h\ntu'y,  nr  ]tr<ivnh'i\  liini  to  u^f* 
stuli  nii^nillnnaidv  ("x|it«"';si«iiis,  I  lir  trinjust  of  word';  ra^cfl  with 
siiili  fmv  that  noiliiiijr  j-hc  {•n\\\t\  lir  liratd.  I'lit  (rtc  \<(>\\yr,  from 
Ills  ^rc'alcr  roniiiiaiid  of  I'li^li^li.  had  a  fFlaflif«•^t  advaiita^jr  nvvr 
I  )('loricr,  wlio  aft<'r  Mpiiltrriii^i  a»id  ^jriniat  in^  for  a  whil<',  found 
his  wor«ls  «|nilr  inad««(Malr  to  the  ^x|lr(•s^ion  of  lii';  wrath.  I  Ir 
jtiinprd  np  anci  vanishrd,  j<rl<in^  ont  hi^wrc-n  his  tr^th  onr  fnrion«; 
S(t(  rr  rtifdiif  ilr  (/hk  r,  a  <  anafhan  titir  of  hotif»r,  niadr  <|onhlv  f'fn- 
pliMtic  hy  In-in^  nsnally  Jippliril  to^cthrr  with  n  rut  of  the  whip  to 
irfiartory  nmlcs  and  horses. 

The  next  morning  we  saw  an  old  hnlTalo  c-scorfin^j  his  cow  witfi 
two  small  calves  over  the  prairie,  (lose  hehind  cafne  four  (»r  livr 
lar|;jc  white  wolves,  sneaking;  stealthily  thron^di  tin*  loti^  rneadow- 
l^rass.  and  watching  for  the  fn<inie?it  whefi  one  of  the  children 
sliould  chance  to  \i\^  hehind  his  parents.  The  old  hnll  ke|»t  well  on 
his  j^uard,  and  faced  aluait  now  and  then  to  keep  the-  prowlifij^ 
ruflians  at  a  distance 

As  wo  approached  otn*  nooning  place,  we  saw  hve  or  six  hnffalo 
statulini^  at  the  very  sumtnit  of  a  tall  hluf'f.  Trotting  forward  to  the 
spot  where  wc  meant  to  stop,  I  fltinj^  off  my  saddle  and  turned  my 
horse  loose.  I»y  makiti^^  a  circuit  under  cover  oi  some  rising  grotmd, 
I  reached  the  foot  of  the  hlufT  unnoticed,  and  dimhed  up  its  steep 
side.  Lying  under  the  hrow  of  tlie  declivity,  \  preparefl  to  Fire  at 
the  butlalo,  who  stood  on  the  flat  surface  ahout  not  five  yards  dis- 
tant. Perha])s  I  was  too  hasty,  for  the  gleaming  rifle-harrel  leveled 
over  the  ad^c  caught  their  notice ;  they  turnerl  and  ran.  Close  as 
they  were,  it  was  impossible  to  kill  them  when  in  that  position,  and 
stepping  ujion  the  summit  I  pursued  them  over  the  high  arid  table- 
land. It  was  extremely  rugged  and  broken  ;  a  great  sandy  ravine 
was  channeled  through  it,  with  smaller  ravines  entering  on  each 
side  like  tributary  streams.  The  buffalo  scattered,  and  I  soon  lost 
sight  of  most  of  them  as  they  scuttled  away  through  the  sandy 
chasms ;  a  bull  and  a  cow  alone  kept  in  view.  For  a  while  they  ran 
along  the  edge  of  the  great  ravine,  appearing  and  disappearing  as 
they  dived  into  some  chasm  and  again  emerged  from  it.  At  last  they 


%. 


284 


The  Oregon  Trail 


!^  'i' 


Stretched  out  upon  the  broad  prairie,  a  plain  nearly  flat  and  almost 
devoid  of  verdure,  for  every  short  grass-blade  was  dried  and  shriv- 
eled by  the  glaring  sun.  Now  and  then  the  old  bull  would  face 
toward  me  ;  whenever  he  did  so  I  fell  to  the  ground  and  lay  motion- 
less. In  this  manner  I  chased  them  for  about  two  miles,  until  at 
length  I  heard  in  front  a  deep  hoarse  bellowing.  A  moment  after  a 
band  of  about  a  hundred  bulls,  before  hidden  by  a  slight  swell  of 
the  plain,  came  at  once  into  view.  The  fugitives  ran  toward  them. 
Instead  of  mingling  with  the  band,  as  I  expected,  they  passed 
directly  through,  and  continued  their  flight.  At  this  I  gave  up  the 
chase,  and  kneeling  down,  crawled  to  within  gunshot  of  the  bulls, 
and  with  panting  breath  and  trickling  brow  sat  down  on  the  ground 
to  watch  them ;  my  presence  did  not  disturb  them  in  the  least.  They 
were  not  feeding,  for,  indeed,  there  was  nothing  to  eat ;  but  they 
seemed  to  have  chosen  the  parched  and  scorching  desert  as  the  scene 
of  their  amusements.  Some  were  rolling  on  the  ground  amid  a 
cloud  of  dust ;  others,  with  a  hoarse  rumbling  bellow,  were  butting 
their  large  heads  together,  while  many  stood  motionless,  as  if  quite 
inanimate.  Except  their  monstrous  growth  of  tangled  grizzly  mane, 
they  had  no  hair;  for  their  old  coat  had  fallen  oflf  in  the  spring, 
and  their  new  one  had  not  as  yet  appeared.  Sometimes  an  old  bull 
would  step  forward,  and  gaze  at  me  with  a  grim  and  stupid  counte- 
nance; then  he  would  turn  and  butt  his  next  neighbor;  then  he 
would  lie  down  and  roll  over  in  the  dirt,  kicking  his  hoofs  in  the 
air.  When  satisfied  with  this  amusement  he  would  jerk  his  head 
and  shoulders  upward,  and  resting  on  his  forelegs  stare  at  me  in 
this  position,  half  blinded  by  his  mane,  and  his  face  covered  with 
dirt ;  then  up  he  would  spring  upon  all-fours,  and  shake  his  dusty 
sides ;  turning  half  round,  he  would  stand  with  his  beard  touching 
the  ground,  in  an  attitude  of  profound  abstraction,  as  if  reflecting 
on  his  puerile  conduct.  "You  are  too  ugly  to  live,"  thought  I ;  and 
aiming  at  the  ugliest,  I  shot  three  of  them  in  succession.  The  rest 
were  not  at  all  discomposed  at  this;  they  kept  on  bellowing  and 
butting  and  rolling  on  the  ground  as  before.  Henry  Chatillon  al- 
ways cautioned  us  to  keep  perfectly  quiet  in  the  presence  of  a 
wounded  buffalo,  for  any  movement  is  apt  to  excite  him  to  make 
an  attack ;  so  I  sat  still  upon  the  ground,  loading  and  firing  with  as 
little  motion  as  possible.  While  I  was  thus  employed,  a  spectator 
made  his  appearance;  a  little  antelope  came  running  up  with  re- 


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markable  gentleness  to  within  fifty  yards;  and  there  it  stood,  its 
slender  neck  arched,  its  small  horns  thrown  back,  and  its  large  dark 
eyes  gazing  on  me  with  a  look  of  eager  curiosity.  By  the  side  of  the 
shaggy  and  brutish  monsters  before  me,  it  seemed  like  some  lovely 
young  girl  wandering  near  a  den  of  robbers  or  a  nest  of  bearded 
pirates.  The  buffalo  looked  uglier  than  ever.  "Here  goes  for  an- 
other of  you,"  thought  I,  feeling  in  my  pouch  for  a  percussion-cap. 
Not  a  percussion-cap  was  there.  My  good  rifle  was  useless  as  an  old 
iron  bar.  One  of  the  wounded  bulls  had  not  yet  fallen,  and  I  waited 
for  some  time,  hoping  every  moment  that  his  strength  would  fail 
him.  He  still  stood  firm,  looking  grimly  at  me,  and  disregarding 
Henry's  advice  I  rose  and  walked  away.  Many  of  the  l)ulls  turned 
and  looked  at  me,  but  the  wounded  brute  made  no  attack.  I  soon 
came  upon  a  deep  ravine  which  would  give  me  shelter  in  case  of 
emergency ;  so  I  turned  round  and  threw  a  stone  at  the  bulls.  They 
received  it  with  the  utmost  indifference.  Feeling  myself  insulted  at 
their  refusal  to  be  frightened,  I  swung  my  hat,  shouted,  and  made  a 
show  of  running  toward  them ;  at  this  they  crowded  together  and 
galloped  off,  leaving  their  dead  and  wounded  upon  the  field.  As  I 
moved  toward  the  camp  I  saw  the  last  survivor  totter  and  fall  dead. 
My  speed  in  returning  was  wonderfully  quickened  by  the  reflection 
that  the  Pawnees  were  abroad,  and  that  I  was  defenseless  in  case 
of  meeting  with  an  enemy.  I  saw  no  living  thing,  however,  except 
two  or  three  squalid  old  bulls  scrambling  among  the  sand-hills  that 
flanked  the  great  ravine.  When  I  reached  camp  the  party  was  nearly 
ready  for  the  afternoon  move. 

We  encamped  that  evening  at  a  short  distance  from  the  river 
bank.  About  midnight,  as  we  all  lay  asleep  on  the  ground,  the  man 
nearest  to  me  gently  reaching  out  his  hand,  touched  my  shoulder, 
and  cautioned  me  at  the  same  time  not  to  move.  It  was  bright  star- 
light. Opening  my  eyes  and  slightly  turning  I  saw  a  large  white 
wolf  moving  stealthily  around  the  embers  of  our  fire,  with  his  nose 
close  to  the  ground.  Disengaging  my  hand  from  the  blanket,  I  drew 
the  cover  from  my  rifle,  which  lay  close  at  my  side;  the  motion 
alarmed  the  wolf,  and  with  long  leaps  he  bounded  out  of  the  camp. 
Jumping  up,  I  fired  after  him  when  he  was  about  thirty  yards  dis- 
tant ;  the  melancholy  hum  of  the  bullet  sounded  far  away  through 
the  night.  At  the  sharp  report,  so  suddenly  breaking  upon  the  still- 
ness, all  the  men  sprang  up. 


286 


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» i.. 

hi 

1!  < 


11  \ 


I 


"You've  killed  him,"  said  one  of  them. 

"No,  I  haven't,"  said  I ;  "there  he  goes,  running  along  the  river." 

"Then  there's  two  of  them.  Don't  you  see  that  one  lying  out 
yonder  ?" 

We  went  to  it,  and  instead  oi  a  dead  white  wolf  found  the 
bleached  skull  of  a  buffalo.  I  had  missed  my  mark,  and  what  was 
worse,  had  grossly  violated  a  standing  law  of  the  prairie.  When  in  a 
dangerous  part  of  the  country,  it  is  considered  highly  imprudent  to 
fire  a  gun  after  encamping,  lest  the  report  should  reach  the  ears  of 
the  Indians. 

The  horses  were  saddled  in  the  morning,  and  the  last  man  had 
lighted  his  pipe  at  the  dying  ashes  of  the  fire.  The  beauty  of  the  day 
enlivened  us  all.  Even  Ellis  felt  its  influence,  and  occasionally  made 
a  remark  as  we  rode  along,  and  Jim  Gurney  told  endless  stories  of 
his  cruisings  in  the  United  States  service.  The  buffalo  were  abun- 
dant, and  at  length  a  large  band  of  them  went  running  up  the  hills 
on  the  left. 

"Do  you  see  them  buffalo?"  said  Ellis,  "now  I'll  bet  an)  man  I'll 
go  and  kill  one  with  my  yager." 

And  leaving  his  horse  to  follow  on  with  the  party,  he  strode  up 
the  hill  after  them.  Henry  looked  at  us  with  his  peculiar  humorous 
expression,  and  proposed  that  we  should  follow  Ellis  to  see  how  he 
would  kill  a  fat  cow.  As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight  we  rode  up  the 
hill  after  him,  and  waited  behind  a  little  ridge  till  we  heard  the 
report  of  the  unfailing  yager.  Mounting  to  the  top,  we  saw  Ellis 
clutching  his  favorite  weapon  with  both  hands,  and  staring  after  the 
buffalo,  who  one  and  all  were  galloping  off  at  full  speed.  As  we 
descended  the  hill  we  saw  the  party  straggling  along  the  trail  below. 
When  we  joined  them,  another  scene  of  amateur  hunting  awaited 
us.  I  forgot  to  say  that  when  we  met  the  volunteers  Tete  Rouge 
had  obtained  a  horse  from  one  of  them,  in  exchange  for  his  mule, 
whom  he  feared  and  detested.  This  horse  he  christened  James. 
James,  though  not  worth  so  much  as  the  mule,  was  a  large  and 
strong  animal.  Tete  Rouge  was  very  proud  of  his  new  acquisition, 
and  suddenly  became  ambitious  to  run  a  buffalo  with  him.  At  his 
request,  I  lent  him  my  pistols,  though  not  without  great  misgivings, 
since  when  Tete  Rouge  hunted  buffalo  the  pursuer  was  in  more 
danger  than  the  pursued.  He  hung  the  holsters  at  his  saddle  bow ; 


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and  now,  as  we  passed  along,  a  band  of  bulls  left  their  grazing  in 
the  meadow  and  galloped  in  a  long  file  across  the  trail  in  front. 

**Now's  your  chance,  Tete ;  come,  let's  see  you  kill  a  bull."  Thus 
urged,  the  hunter  cried,  "Get  up !"  and  James,  obedient  to  the  sig- 
nal, cantered  deliberately  forward  at  an  abominably  uneasy  gait. 
Tete  Rouge,  as  we  contemplated  him  from  behind;  made  a  most 
remarkable  figure.  He  still  wore  the  old  buffalo  coat ;  his  blanket, 
which  was  tied  in  a  loose  bundle  behind  his  saddle,  went  jolting 
from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  a  large  tin  canteen  half  full  of 
water,  which  hung  from  his  pommel,  was  jerked  about  his  leg  in  a 
manner  which  greatly  embarrassed  him. 

"Let  out  your  horse,  man ;  lay  on  your  whip !"  we  called  out  to 
him.  The  buffalo  were  getting  farther  off  at  every  instant.  James, 
being  ambitious  to  mend  his  pace,  tugged  hard  at  the  rein,  and  one 
of  his  rider's  boots  escaped  from  the  stirrup. 

"Woa!  I  say,  woa!"  cried  Tete  Rouge,  in  great  perturbation, 
and  after  much  effort  James'  progress  was  arrested.  The  hunter 
came  trotting  back  to  the  party,  disgusted  with  buffalo  running, 
and  he  was  received  with  overwhelming  congratulations. 

"Too  good  a  chance  to  lose,"  said  Shaw,  pointing  to  another 
band  of  bulls  on  the  left.  We  lashed  our  horses  and  galloped  upon 
them.  Shaw  killed  one  with  each  barrel  of  his  guri.  I  separated  an- 
other from  the  herd  and  shot  him.  The  small  bullet  of  the  rifled 
pistol,  striking  too  far  back,  did  not  immediately  take  effect,  and  the 
bull  ran  on  with  unabated  speed.  Again  and  again  I  snapped  the 
remaining  pistol  at  him.  I  primed  it  afresh  three  or  four  times,  and 
each  time  it  missed  fire,  for  the  touch-hole  was  clogged  up.  Return- 
ing it  to  the  holster,  I  began  to  load  the  empty  pistol,  still  galloping 
by  the  side  of  the  bull.  By  this  time  he  was  grown  desperate.  The 
foam  flew  from  his  jaws  and  his  tongue  lolled  out.  Before  the  pistol 
was  loaded  he  sprang  upon  me,  and  followed  up  his  attack  with  a 
furious  rush.  The  only  alternative  was  to  run  away  or  be  killed.  I 
took  to  flight,  and  the  bull,  bristling  with  fury,  pursued  me  closely. 
The  pistol  was  soon  ready,  and  then  looking  back,  I  saw  his  head 
five  or  six  yards  behind  my  horse's  tail.  To  fire  at  it  would  be  use- 
less, for  a  bullet  flattens  against  the  adamantine  skull  of  a  buffalo 
bull.  Inclining  my  body  to  the  left,  I  turned  my  horse  in  that  direc- 
tion as  sharply  as  his  speed  would  permit.  The  bull,  rushing  blindly 


288 


The  Oregon  Trail 


V 


I't-i 


on  with  great  force  and  weight,  did  not  turn  so  quickly.  As  I  looked 
back,  his  neck  and  shoulders  were  exposed  to  view ;  turning  in  the 
saddle,  I  shot  a  bullet  through  them  obliquely  into  his  vitals.  He 
gave  over  the  chase  and  soon  fell  to  the  ground.  An  English  tourist 
represents  a  situation  like  this  as  one  of  imminent  danger;  this 
is  a  great  mistake ;  the  bull  never  pursues  long,  and  the  horse  must 
be  wretched  indeed  that  cannot  keep  out  of  his  way  for  two  or  three 
minutes. 

We  were  now  come  to  a  part  of  the  country  where  we  were 
bound  in  common  prudence  to  ui  j  every  possible  precaution.  We 
mounted  guard  at  night,  each  man  standing  in  his  turn ;  and  no  one 
ever  slept  without  drawing  his  rifle  close  to  his  side  or  folding  it 
with  him  in  his  blanket.  One  morning  our  viligance  was  stimulated 
by  our  finding  traces  of  a  large  Comanche  encampment.  Fortu- 
nately for  us,  however,  it  had  been  abandoned  nearly  a  week.  On 
the  next  evening  we  found  the  ashes  of  a  recent  fire,  which  gave  us 
at  the  time  some  uneasiness.  At  length  we  reached  the  Caches,  a 
place  of  dangerous  repute ;  and  it  had  a  most  dangerous  appearance, 
consisting  of  sandhills  everywhere  broken  by  ravines  and  deep 
chasms.  Here  we  found  the  grave  of  Swan,  killed  at  this  place, 
probably  by  the  Pawnees,  two  or  three  weeks  before.  His  remains, 
more  than  once  violated  by  the  Indians  and  the  wolves,  were  suf- 
fered at  length  to  remain  undisturbed  in  their  wild  burial  place. 

For  several  days  we  met  detached  companies  of  Price's  regiment. 
Horses  would  often  break  loose  at  night  from  their  camps.  One 
afternoon  we  picked  up  three  of  these  stragglers  quietly  grazing 
along  the  river.  After  we  came  to  camp  that  evening,  Jim  Gurney 
brought  news  that  more  of  them  were  in  sight.  It  was  nearly  dark, 
and  a  cold,  drizzling  rain  had  set  in;  but  we  all  turned  out,  and 
after  an  hour's  chase  nine  horses  were  caught  and  brought  in.  One 
of  them  was  equipped  with  saddle  and  bridle ;  pistols  were  hanging 
at  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  a  carbine  was  slung  at  its  side,  and  a 
blanket  rolled  up  behind  it.  In  the  morning,  glorying  in  our  valu- 
able prize,  we  resumed  our  journey,  and  our  cavalcade  presented  a 
much  more  imposing  appearance  than  ever  before.  We  kept  on  till 
the  afternoon,  when,  far  behind,  three  horsemen  appeared  on  the 
horizon.  Coming  on  at  a  hand-gallop,  they  soon  overtook  us,  and 
claimed  all  the  horses  as  belonging  to  themselves  and  others  of  their 


The  Oregon  Trail 


289 


company.  They  were  of  course  given  up,  very  much  to  the  mortifi- 
cation of  Ellis  and  Jim  Gurney. 

Our  own  horses  now  showed  signs  of  fatigue,  and  we  resolved 
to  give  them  half  a  day's  rest.  We  stopped  at  noon  at  a  grassy  spot 
by  the  river.  After  dinner  Shaw  and  Henry  went  out  to  hunt ;  and 
while  the  men  lounged  about  the  camp,  I  lay  down  to  read  in  the 
shadow  of  the  cart.  Looking  up,  I  saw  a  bull  grazing  alone  on  the 
prairie  more  than  a  mile  distant.  I  was  tired  of  reading,  and  taking 
my  rifle  I  walked  toward  him.  As  I  came  near,  I  crawled  upon  the  ,^ 
ground  until  I  approached  to  within  a  hundred  yards ;  here  I  sat  \j 
down  upon  the  grass  and  waited  till  he  should  turn  himself  into  a  s 
proper  position  to  receive  his  death-wound.  He  was  a  grim  old  \ 
veteran.  His  loves  and  his  battles  were  over  for  that  season,  and  ""^ 
now,  gaunt  and  war-worn,  he  had  withdrawn  from  the  herd  to  ^ 
graze  by  himself  and  recruit  his  exhausted  strength.  He  was  miser- 
ably emaciated ;  his  mane  was  all  in  tatters ;  his  hide  was  bare  and 
rough  as  an  elephant's,  and  covered  with  dried  patches  of  the  mud 
in  which  he  had  been  wallowing.  He  showed  all  his  ribs  whenever  "^ 
he  moved.  He  looked  like  some  grizzly  old  ruffian  grown  gray  in 
blood  and  violence,  and  scowling  on  all  the  world  from  his  misan- 
.thropic  seclusion.  The  old  savage  looked  up  when  I  first  ap- 
proached, and  gave  me  a  fierce  stare ;  then  he  fell  to  grazing  again 
with  an  air  of  contemptuous  indifference.  The  moment  after,  as  if 
suddenly  recollecting  himself,  he  threw  up  his  head,  faced  quickly 
about,  and  to  my  amazement  came  at  a  rapid  trot  directly  toward 
me.  I  was  strongly  impelled  to  get  up  and  run,  but  this  would  have 
been  very  dangerous.  Sitting  quite  still  I  aimed,  as  he  came  on,  at 
the  thin  part  of  the  skull  above  the  nose.  After  he  had  passed  over 
about  three-quarters  of  the  distance  between  us,  I  was  on  the 
point  of  firing,  when,  to  my  great  satisfaction,  he  stopped  short.  I 
had  full  opportunity  of  studying  his  countenance ;  his  whole  front 
was  covered  with  a  huge  mass  of  coarse  matted  hair,  which  hung  so 
low  that  nothing  but  his  two  fore  feet  were  visible  beneath  it ;  his 
short  thick  horns  were  blunted  and  split  to  the  very  roots  in  his 
various  battles,  and  across  his  nose  and  forehead  were  two  or  three 
large  white  scars,  which  gave  him  a  grim  and  at  the  same  time  a 
whimsical  appearance.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  stood  there  motion- 
less for  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour,  looking  at  me  through  the  tangled 


290 


The  Oregon  Trail 


locks  of  his  mane.  For  my  part,  I  remained  as  quiet  as  he,  and 
looked  quite  as  hard ;  I  felt  greatly  inclined  to  come  to  terms  with 
him.  "My  friend,"  thought  I,  "if  you'll  let  me  off,  I'll  let  you  off." 
At  length  he  seemed  to  have  abandoned  any  hostile  design.  Very 
slowly  and  deliberately  he  began  to  turn  about ;  little  by  little  his 
side  came  into  view,  all  beplastered  with  mud.  It  was  a  tempting 
sight.  I  forgot  my  prudent  intentions,  and  fired  my  rifle ;  a  pistol 
would  have  served  at  that  distance.  Round  spun  old  bull  like  a  top, 
and  away  he  galloped  over  the  prairie.  He  ran  some  distance,  and 
even  ascended  a  considerable  hill,  before  he  lay  down  and  died. 
After  shooting  another  bull  among  the  hills,  I  went  back  to  camp. 
At  noon,  on  the  14th  of  September,  a  very  large  Santa  Fe  cara- 
van came  up.  The  plain  was  covered  with  the  long  files  of  their 
white-topped  wagons,  the  close  black  carriages  in  which  the  traders 
travel  and  sleep,  large  droves  of  animals,  and  men  on  horseback 
and  on  foot.  They  all  stopped  on  the  meadow  near  us.  Our  diminu- 
tive cart  and  handful  of  men  made  but  an  insignificant  figure  by 
the  side  of  their  wide  and  bustling  camp.  Tete  Rouge  went  over  to 
visit  them,  and  soon  came  back  with  half  a  dozen  biscuits  in  one 
hand  and  a  bottle  of  brandy  in  the  other.  I  inquired  where  he  got 
them.  "Oh,"  said  Tete  Rouge,  "I  know  some  of  the  traders.  Dr. 
Dobbs  is  there  besides."  I  asked  who  Dr.  Dobbs  might  be.  "One  of 
our  St.  Louis  doctors,"  replied  Tete  Rouge.  For  two  days  past  I 
had  been  severely  attacked  by  the  same  disorder  which  had  so 
greatly  reduced  my  strength  when  at  the  mountains ;  at  this  time  I 
was  suffering  not  a  little  from  the  sudden  pain  and  weakness  which 
it  occasioned.  Tete  Rouge,  in  answer  to  my  inquiries,  declared  that 
Dr.  Dobbs  was  a  physician  of  the  first  standing.  Without  at  all  be- 
lieving him,  I  resolved  to  consult  this  eminent  practitioner.  Walk- 
ing over  to  the  camp,  I  found  him  lying  sound  asleep  under  one  of 
the  wagons.  He  offered  in  his  own  person  but  an  indifferent  speci- 
men of  his  skill,  for  it  was  five  months  since  I  had  seen  so  cadaver- 
ous a  face.  His  hat  had  fallen  off,  and  his  yellow  hair  was  all  in 
disorder ;  one  of  his  arms  supplied  the  place  of  a  pillow ;  his  panta- 
loons were  wrinkled  halfway  up  to  his  knees,  and  he  was  covered 
with  little  bits  of  grass  and  straw,  upon  which  he  had  rolled  in  his 
uneasy  slumber.  A  Mexican  stood  near,  and  I  made  him  a  sign 
that  he  should  touch  the  doctor.  Up  sprang  the  learned  Dobbs,  and, 
sitting  upright,  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  about  him  in  great  be- 


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291 


wilderment.  I  regretted  the  necessity  of  disturbing  him,  and  said  I 
had  come  to  ask  professional  advice.  "Your  system,  sir,  is  in  a  dis- 
ordered state,"  said  he  solemnly,  after  a  short  examination. 

I  inquired  what  might  be  the  particular  species  of  disorder. 

^'Evidently  a  morbid  action  of  the  liver,"  replied  the  medical 
man ;  "I  will  give  you  a  prescription." 

Repairing  to  the  back  of  one  of  the  covered  wagons,  he  scrambled 
in;  for  a  moment  I  could  see  nothing  of  him  but  his  boots.  At 
length  he  produced  a  box  which  he  had  extracted  from  some  dark 
recess  within,  and  opening  it,  he  presented  me  with  a  folded  paper 
of  some  size.  "What  is  it  ?"  said  I.  "Calomel,"  said  the  doctor. 

Under  the  circumstances  I  would  have  taken  almost  anything. 
There  was  not  enough  to  do  me  much  harm,  and  it  might  possibly 
do  good;  so  at  camp  that  night  I  took  the  poison  instead  of  supper. 

That  camp  is  worthy  of  notice.  The  traders  warned  us  not  to 
follow  the  main  trail  along  the  river,  "unless,"  as  one  of  them  ob- 
served, "you  want  to  have  your  throats  cut !"  The  river  at  this  place 
makes  a  bend ;  and  a  smaller  trail,  known  as  the  Ridge-path,  leads 
directly  across  the  prairie  from  point  to  point,  a  distance  of  sixty 
or  seventy  miles. 

We  followed  this  trail,  and  after  traveling  seven  or  eight  miles, 
we  came  to  a  small  stream,  where  we  encamped.  Our  position  was 
not  chosen  with  much  forethought  or  military  skill.  The  water  was 
in  a  deep  hollow,  with  steep,  high  banks ;  on  the  grassy  bottom  of 
this  hollow  we  picketed  our  horses,  while  we  ourselves  encamped 
upon  the  barren  prairie  just  above.  The  opportunity  was  admirable 
either  for  driving  off  our  horses  or  attacking  us.  After  dark,  as 
Tete  Rouge  was  sitting  at  supper,  we  observed  him  pointing  with 
a  face  of  speechless  horror  over  the  shoulder  of  Henry,  who  was 
opposite  to  him.  Aloof  amid  the  darkness  appeared  a  gigantic  black 
apparition ;  solemnly  swaying  to  and  fro,  it  advanced  steadily  upon 
us.  Henry,  half  vexed  and  half  amused  jumped  up,  spread  out  his 
arms,  and  shouted.  The  invader  was  an  old  buffalo  bull,  who  with 
characteristic  stupidity,  was  walking  directly  into  camp.  It  cost 
some  shouting  and  swinging  of  hats  before  we  could  bring  him  first 
to  a  halt  and  then  to  a  rapid  retreat. 

That  night  the  moon  was  full  and  bright ;  but  as  the  black  clouds 
chased  rapidly  over  it,  we  were  at  one  moment  in  light  and  at  the 
next  in  darkness.  As  the  evening  advanced,  a  thunder-storm  came 


292 


The  Oregon  Trail 


up ;  it  struck  us  with  such  violence  that  the  tent  would  have  been 
blown  over  if  we  had  not  interposed  the  cart  to  break  the  force  of 
the  wind.  At  length  it  subsided  to  a  steady  rain.  I  lay  awake  through 
nearly  the  whole  night,  listening  to  its  dull  patter  upon  the  <:anvas 
above.  The  moisture,  which  filled  the  tent  and  trickled  from  every- 
thing in  it,  did  not  add  to  the  comfort  of  the  situation.  About 
twelve  o'clock  Shaw  went  out  to  stand  guard  amid  the  rain  and 
pitch  darkness.  Munroe,  the  most  vigilant  as  well  as  one  of  the 
bravest  among  us,  was  also  on  the  alert.  When  about  two  hours  had 
passed,  Shaw  came  silently  in,  and  touching  Henry,  called  him  in  a 
low  quick  voice  to  come  out.  "What  is  it?"  I  asked.  "Indians,  I 
believe,"  whispered  Shaw;  "but  lie  still;  I'll  call  you  if  there's  a 
fight." 

He  and  Henry  went  out  together.  I  took  the  cover  from  my  rifle, 
put  a  fresh  percussion  cap  upon  it,  and  then,  being  in  much  pain, 
lay  down  again.  In  about  five  minutes  Shaw  came  in  again.  "All 
right,"  he  said,  as  he  lay  down  to  sleep.  Henry  was  now  standing 
guard  in  his  place.  He  told  me  in  the  morning  the  particulars  of  the 
alarm.  Munroe's  watchful  eye  discovered  some  dark  objects  down 
in  the  hollow,  among  the  horses,  like  men  creeping  on  all  fours. 
Lying  flat  on  their  faces,  he  and  Shaw  crawled  to  the  edge  of  the 
bank,  and  were  soon  convinced  that  what  they  saw  were  Indians. 
Shaw  silently  withdrew  to  call  Henry,  and  they  all  lay  watching  in 
the  same  position.  Henry's  eye  is  of  the  best  on  the  prairie.  He  de- 
tected after  a  while  the  true  nature  of  the  moving  objects;  they 
were  nothing  but  wolves  creeping  among  the  horses. 

It  is  very  singular  that  when  picketed  near  a  camp  horses  seldom 
show  any  fear  of  such  an  intrusion.  The  wolves  appear  to  have  no 
other  object  than  that  of  gnawing  the  trail-ropes  of  raw-hide  by 
which  the  animals  are  secured.  Several  times  in  the  course  of  the 
journey  my  horse's  trail-rope  was  bitten  in  two  by  these  nocturnal 
visitors. 


lave  been 
;  force  of 
e  through 
he  -canvas 
)m  every- 
n.  About 

rain  and 
ne  of  the 
lOurs  had 
I  him  in  a 
ndians,  I 

there's  a 

I  my  rifle, 
uch  pain, 
:ain.  "All 

standing 
ars  of  the 
!cts  down 
ill  fours, 
ge  of  the 

Indians, 
tching  in 
Hede- 
cts;  they 

s  seldom 
have  no 
-hide  by 
56  of  the 
locturnal 


The  Oregon  Trail  293 


Chapter  XXVII 
THE  SETTLEMENTS 

The  next  day  was  extremely  hot,  and  we  rode  from  morning  till 
night  without  seeing  a  tree  or  a  bush  or  a  drop  of  water.  Our 
horses  and  mules  suffered  much  more  than  we,  but  as  sunset  ap- 
proached they  pricked  up  their  ears  and  mended  their  pace.  Water 
was  not  far  off.  When  we  came  to  the  descent  of  the  broad  shallowy 
valley  where  it  lay,  an  unlooked-for  sight  awaited  us.  The  stream 
glistened  at  the  bottom,  and  along  its  banks  were  pitched  a  multi- 
tude of  tents,  while  hundreds  of  cattle  were  feeding  over  the  mead- 
ows. Bodies  of  troops,  both  horse  and  foot,  and  long  trains  of 
wagons  with  men,  women,  and  children,  were  moving  over  the 
opposite  ridge  and  descending  the  broad  declivity  in  front.  These 
were  the  Mormon  battalion  in  the  service  of  government,  together 
with  a  considerable  number  of  Missouri  volunteers.  The  Mormons 
were  to  be  paid  off  in  California,  and  they  were  allowed  to  bring 
with  them  their  families  and  property.  There  was  something  very 
striking  in  the  half-military,  half -patriarchal  appearance  of  these 
armed  fanatics,  thus  on  their  way  with  their  wives  and  children,  to 
found,  if  might  be,  a  Morman  empire  in  California.  We  were  much 
more  astonished  than  pleased  at  the  sight  before  us.  In  order  to 
find  an  unoccupied  camping  ground,  we  were  obliged  to  pass  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  stream,  and  here  we  were  soon  beset  by  a 
swarm  of  Mormons  and  Missourians.  The  United  States  officer  in 
command  of  the  whole  came  also  to  visit  us,  and  remained  some 
time  at  our  camp. 

In  the  morning  the  country  was  covered  with  mist.  We  were 
always  early  risers,  but  before  we  were  ready  the  voices  of  men 
driving  in  the  cattle  sounded  all  around  us.  As  we  passed  above 
their  camp,  we  saw  through  the  obscurity  that  the  tents  were  falling 
and  the  ranks  rapidly  forming;  and  mingled  with  the  cries  of 
women  and  children,  the  rolling  of  the  Mormon  drums  and  the 
clear  blast  of  their  trumpets  sounded  through  the  mist. 

From  that  time  to  the  journey's  end,  we  met  almost  every  day 
long  trains  of  government  wagons,  laden  with  stores  for  the  troops 
and  crawling  at  a  snail's  pace  toward  Santa  Fe. 


294 


The  Oregon  Trail 


t 


?7 

'I  ' 

■4' -I 


'J,  r 


Tete  Rouge  had  a  mortal  antipathy  to  danger,  but  on  a  foraging 
expedition  one  evening,  he  achieved  an  adventure  more  perilous 
than  had  yet  befallen  any  man  in  the  party.  The  night  after  we  left 
the  Ridge-path  we  encamped  close  to  the  river.  At  sunset  we  saw  a 
train  of  wagons  encamping  on  the  trail  about  three  miles  oflf ;  and 
though  we  saw  them  distinctly,  our  little  cart,  as  it  afterward 
proved,  entirely  escaped  their  view.  For  some  days  Tete  Rouge  had 
been  longing  eagerly  after  a  dram  of  whisky.  So,  resolving  to  im- 
prove the  present  opportunity,  he  mounted  his  horse  James,  slung 
his  canteen  over  his  shoulder,  and  set  forth  in  search  of  his  favorite 
liquor.  Some  hours  passed  without  his  returning.  We  thought  that 
he  was  lost,  or  perhaps  that  some  stray  Indian  had  snapped  him 
up.  While  the  rest  fell  asleep  I  remained  on  guard.  Late  at  night  a 
tremulous  voice  saluted  me  from  the  darkness,  and  Tete  Rouge 
and  James  soon  became  visible,  advancing  toward  the  camp.  Tete 
Rouge  was  in  much  agitation  and  big  with  some  important  tidings. 
Sitting  down  on  the  shaft  of  the  cart,  he  told  the  following  story : 

When  he  left  the  camp  he  had  no  idea,  he  said,  how  late  it  was. 
By  the  time  he  approached  the  wagoners  it  was  perfectly  dark; 
and  as  he  saw  them  all  sitting  around  their  fires  within  the  circle 
of  wagons,  their  guns  laid  by  their  sides,  he  thought  he  might  as 
well  give  warning  of  his  approach,  in  order  to  prevent  a  disagree- 
able mistake.  Raising  his  voice  to  the  highest  pitch,  he  screamed 
out  in  prolonged  accents,  "Camp,  ahoy !"  This  eccentric  salutation 
produced  anything  but  the  desired  result.  Hearing  such  hideous 
sounds  proceeding  from  the  outer  darkness,  the  wagoners  thought 
that  the  whole  Pawnee  nation  were  about  to  break  in  and  take  their 
scalps.  Up  they  sprang  staring  with  terror.  Each  man  snatched  his 
gun;  some  stood  behind  the  wagons;  some  threw  themselves  flat 
on  the  ground,  and  in  an  instant  twenty  cocked  muskets  were 
leveled  full  at  the  horrified  Tete  Rouge,  who  just  then  began  to 
be  visible  through  the  darkness. 

"Thar  they  come,"  cried  the  master  wagoner,  "fire,  fire !  shoot 
that  feller." 

"No,  no!"  screamed  Tete  Rouge,  in  an  ecstasy  of  fright;  "don't 
fire,  don't !  I'm  a  friend,  I'm  an  American  citizen !" 

"You're  a  friend,  be  you?"  cried  a  gruff  voice  from  the  wagons ; 
"then  what  are  you  yelling  out  thar  for,  like  a  wild  Injun.  Come 
along  up  here  if  you're  a  man." 


The  Oregon  Trail 


295 


[oraging 

perilous 

r  we  left 

ire  saw  a 

off ;  and 

■terward 

>uge  had 

g  to  im- 

;s,  slung 

favorite 

ight  that 

ped  him 

t  night  a 

i  Rouge 

np.  Tete 

:  tidings. 

story : 

e  it  was. 

ly  dark; 

le  circle 

night  as 

isagree- 

creamed 

ilutation 

lideous 

thought 

ke  their 

:hed  his 

Ives  flat 

ts  were 

egan  to 

;!  shoot 


<( 


don't 


dragons ; 
Come 


*'Keep  your  guns  p'inted  at  him,"  added  the  master  wagoner, 
"maybe  he's  a  decoy,  like." 

Tete  Rouge  in  utter  bewilderment  made  his  approach,  with  the 
gaping  muzzles  of  the  muskets  still  before  his  eyes.  He  succeeded 
at  last  in  explaining  his  character  and  situation,  and  the  Missouri- 
ans  admitted  him  into  camp.  He  got  no  whisky ;  but  as  he  repre- 
sented himself  as  a  great  invalid,  and  suffering  much  from  coarse 
fare,  they  made  up  a  contribution  for  him  of  rice,  biscuit,  and  sugar 
from  their  own  rations. 

In  the  morning  at  breakfast,  Tete  Rouge  once  more  related  this 
story.  We  hardly  knew  *  ow  much  of  it  to  believe,  though  after  some 
cross-questioning  we  failed  to  discover  any  flaw  in  the  narrative. 
Passing  by  the  wagoner's  camp,  they  confirmed  Tete  Rouge's 
account  in  every  particular. 

"I  wouldn't  have  been  in  that  feller's  place,"  said  one  of  them, 
"for  the  biggest  heap  of  money  in  Missouri." 

To  Tete  Rouge's  great  wrath  they  expressed  a  firm  conviction 
that  he  was  crazy.  We  left  them  after  giving  them  the  advice  not  to 
trouble  themselves  about  war-whoops  in  future,  since  they  would  be 
apt  to  feel  an  Indian's  arrow  before  they  heard  his  voice. 

A  day  or  two  after,  we  had  an  adventure  of  another  sort  with  a 
party  of  wagoners.  Henry  and  I  rode  forward  to  hunt.  After  that 
day  there  was  no  probability  that  we  should  meet  with  buffalo,  and 
we  were  anxious  to  kill  one  for  the  sake  of  fresh  meat.  They  were 
so  wild  that  we  hunted  all  the  morning  in  vain,  but  at  noon  as  we 
approached  Cow  Creek  we  saw  a  large  band  feeding  near  its  mar- 
gin. Cow  Creek  is  densely  lined  with  trees  which  intercept  the  view 
beyond,  and  it  runs,  as  we  afterward  found,  at  the  bottom  of  a 
deep  trench.  We  approached  by  riding  along  the  bottom  of  a  ravine. 
When  we  were  near  enough,  I  held  the  horses  while  Henry  crept 
toward  the  buffalo.  I  saw  him  take  his  seat  within  shooting  dis- 
tance, prepare  his  rifle,  and  look  about  to  select  his  victim.  The 
death  of  a  fat  cow  was  certain,  when  suddenly  a  great  smoke  arose 
from  the  bed  of  the  Creek  with  a  rattling  volley  of  musketry.  A 
score  of  long-legged  Missourians  leaped  out  from  among  the  trees 
and  ran  after  the  buffalo,  who  one  and  all  took  to  their  heels  and 
vanished.  These  fellows  had  crawled  up  the  bed  of  the  Creek  to 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  buffalo.  Never  was  there  a  fairer 
chance  for  a  shot.  They  were  good  marksmen ;  all  cracked  away  at 


296 


The  Oregon  Trail 


J:1 


once,  and  yet  not  a  buffalo  fell.  In  fact,  the  animal  is  so  tenacious 
of  life  that  it  requires  no  little  knowledge  of  anatomy  to  kill  it, 
and  it  is  very  seldom  that  a  novice  succeeds  in  his  first  attempt  at 
approaching.  The  balked  Missourians  were  excessively  mortified, 
esjiecially  when  Henry  told  them  if  they  had  kept  quiet  he  would 
have  killed  meat  enough  in  ten  minutes  to  feed  their  whole  party. 
Our  friends,  who  were  at  no  great  distance,  hearing  such  a  formid- 
able fusillade,  thought  the  Indians  had  fired  the  volley  for  our 
benefit.  Shaw  came  galloping  on  to  reconnoiter  and  learn  if  we  were 
yet  in  the  land  of  the  living. 

At  Cow  Creek  we  found  the  very  welcome  novelty  of  r\\ie  grapes 
and  plums,  which  grew  there  in  abundance.  At  the  Little  Arkansas, 
not  much  farther  on,  we  saw  the  last  buffalo,  a  miserable  old  bull, 
roaming  over  the  prairie  alone  and  melancholy. 

From  this  time  forward  the  character  of  the  country  was 
changing  every  day.  We  had  left  behind  us  the  great  arid  deserts, 
meagerly  covered  by  the  tufted  buffalo  grass,  with  its  pale  green 
hue,  and  its  short  shriveled  blades.  The  plains  before  us  were  car- 
peted with  rich  and  verdant  herbage  sprinkled  with  flowers.  In 
place  of  buffalo  we  found  plenty  of  prairie  hens,  and  we  bagged 
them  by  dozens  without  leaving  the  trail.  In  three  or  four  days  we 
saw  before  us  the  broad  woods  and  the  emerald  meadows  of  Coun- 
cil Grove,  a  scene  of  striking  luxuriance  and  beauty.  It  seemed  like 
a  new  sensation  as  we  rode  beneath  the  resounding  archs  of  these 
noble  woods.  The  trees  were  ash,  oak,  elm,  maple,  and  hickory, 
their  mighty  limbs  deeply  overshadowing  the  path,  while  enormous 
grape  vines  were  ?ntwined  among  them,  purple  with  fruit.  The 
shouts  of  our  scattered  party,  and  now  and  then  a  report  of  a  rifle, 
rang  amid  the  breathing  stillness  of  the  forest.  We  rode  forth  again 
with  regret  into  the  broad  light  of  the  open  prairie.  Little  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  now  separated  us  from  the  frontier  settle- 
ments. The  whole  intervening  country  was  a  succession  of  verdant 
prairies,  rising  in  broad  swells  and  relieved  by  trees  clustering  like 
an  oasis  around  some  spring,  or  following  the  course  of  a  stream 
along  some  fertile  hollow.  These  are  the  prairies  of  the  poet  and 
the  novelist.  We  had  left  danger  behind  us.  Nothing  was  to  be 
feared  from  the  Indians  of  this  region,  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  the 
Kansas  and  the  Osages.  We  had  met  with  signal  good  fortune.  Al- 
though for  five  months  ve  had  been  traveling  with  an  insufficient 


The  Orix.on  Trail 


297 


inacious 
>  kill  it, 
cnipt  at 
ortificd, 
e  would 
e  party, 
formid- 
for  our 
we  were 

e  grapes 
rkansas, 
old  bull, 

try   was 
deserts, 
le  green 
rere  car- 
vers. In 
bagged 
days  we 
f  Coun- 
Tied  like 
of  these 
hickory, 
lormous 
lit.  The 
a  rifle, 
h  again 
e  more 
•  settle- 
verdant 
ing  like 
stream 
oet  and 
to  be 
ses,  the 
me.  Al- 
nfficient 


s 


force  through  a  country  where  we  were  at  any  moment  liable  to 
depredati(m,  nut  a  single  animal  had  been  stolen  from  us,  and  our 
only  loss  had  been  one  old  mule  bittei.  to  death  by  a  rattlesnake. 
Three  weeks  after  we  reached  the  frontier  the  Pawnees  and  the 
Comanches  began  a  regular  series  of  hostilities  on  the  Arkansas 
trail,  killing  men  and  driving  ofT  horses.  They  attacked,  without 
excepticm,  every  party,  large  or  small,  that  passed  during  the  next 
six  months. 

Diamond  Spring,  Rock  Creek,  Mlder  Grove,  and  other  camping 
places  besides,  were  passed  all  in  quick  succession.  At  Rock  Creek 
we  found  a  train  of  government  provision  wagons,  under  the 
charge  of  an  emaciated  old  man  in  his  seventy-first  year.  Some  rest- 
less American  devil  had  driven  him  into  the  wilderness  at  a  time 
when  he  should  have  been  seated  at  his  fireside  with  his  grand- 
children on  his  knees.  I  am  convinced  that  he  never  returned ;  he 
was  complaining  that  night  of  a  disease,  the  wasting  effects  of 
which  upon  a  younger  and  stronger  man,  I  myself  had  proved  from 
severe  experience.  Long  ere  this  no  doubt  the  wolves  have  howled 
their  moonlight  carnival  over  the  old  man's  attenuated  remains. 

Not  long  after  we  came  to  a  small  trail  leading  to  Fort  Leaven- 
worth, distant  but  one  day's  journey.  Tete  Rouge  here  took  leave 
of  us.  He  was  anxious  to  go  to  the  fort  in  order  to  receive  payment 
for  his  valuable  military  services.  So  he  and  his  horse  James,  after 
bidding  an  affectionate  farewell,  set  out  together,  taking  with  them 
as  much  provision  as  they  could  conveniently  carry,  including  a 
large  quantity  of  brown  sugar.  On  a  cheerless  rainy  evening  we 
came  to  our  last  encamping  ground.  Some  pigs  belonging  to  a 
Shawnee  farmer  were  grunting  and  rooting  at  the  edge  of  the 
grove. 

"I  wonder  how  fresh  pork  tastes,"  murmured  one  of  the  party, 
and  more  than  one  voice  murmured  in  response.  The  fiat  went 
forth,  "That  pig  must  die,"  and  a  rifle  was  leveled  forthwith  at  the 
countenance  of  the  plumpest  porker.  Just  then  a  wagon  train,  with 
some  twenty  Missourians,  came  out  from  among  the  trees.  The 
marksman  suspended  his  aim,  deeming  it  inexpedient  under  the 
circumstances  to  consummate  the  deed  of  blood. 

In  the  morning  we  made  our  toilet  as  well  as  circumstances 
would  permit,  and  that  is  saying  but  very  little.  In  spite  of  the 
dreary  rain  of  yesterday,  there  never  was  a  brighter  and  gayer 


2<)S 


TiiK  (^RK(;oN  Trah. 


11^ 


l3k  ■ 


( 

■^ 


s 


autumnal  nioruitii;  ihau  that  on  which  wc  rcttniicjl  to  the  scttlr- 
nuMits.  W'c  wvYv  passinj;  thntu^jh  thr  cotintrv  of  the  lialf  rivih/cd 
Shawanors.  It  was  a  hrautiful  ahrrnatinn  of  frrtilc  plains  and 
jjrovos,  whose  f»>lia^r  was  just  tni^jcd  with  the  hurs  of  antninn. 
while  cUise  luMU'alh  them  rested  the  neat  Inj;  houses  of  the  Indian 
fanners,  h.verv  lield  and  niea<low  hespoke  the  exnherant  fertility  nl 
the  soil.  The  mai/e  stoo<l  rustlinj;  in  the  vvin<l,  matured  and  dry,  its 
shininij  yellow  ears  thrtist  out  hetween  the  ^apinj;  husks.  S(|uashes 
J^  and  enornu>us  yellow  pumpkins  lay  haskinj;  in  the  sun  in  the  nndst 
of  their  hrnwn  an<l  shriveled  leaves.  Kohins  and  hiaekhirds  Hew 
ahont  the  fences;  and  everything  in  short  hetokened  our  nvi\r  ap- 

Vproach  to  home  and  civili/atiim.  The  forests  that  horder  on  the 
Missomi  soon  rose  heforc  us,  and  we  entered  the  wide  tract  of 
^  shruhhery  which  fiutns  their  outskirts.  We  had  pas.sed  the  same 
road  on  oiu*  outw.ird  journey  in  the  sprinj;.  hut  its  aspect  was 
^  tot.illy  chanjjed.  The  yonnj;  wild  apple-trees,  then  Hushed  with  their 
Ji  frai;ranl  hlossoms.  were  now  hunj^^  thickly  with  ruddy  fruit.  Tall 
grass  Hoijrished  hy  the  roadside  in  place  of  the  tender  shoots  just 
peepinj::  tnun  the  warm  and  oozy  soil.  The  vines  were  laden  with 
dark  ]nn]^le  jjrapes.  and  the  slender  twigs  of  the  maple,  then  tas- 
seled  with  their  clusters  of  small  red  flowers,  now  hung  out  a  gor- 
geous display  of  leaves  stained  hy  the  frost  with  hurning  crimson. 
On  every  side  we  saw  the  tokens  of  maturity  and  decay  where  all 
had  hefore  heen  fresh  and  heautiful.  We  entered  the  forest,  and 
ourselves  and  our  horses  were  checkered,  as  we  passed  along,  hy 
the  hright  s]x)ts  of  sunlight  that  fell  l^etween  the  opening  houghs. 
On  either  side  the  dark  rich  masses  of  foliage  almost  excluded  the 
sun,  though  here  and  there  its  rays  could  find  their  way  down, 
striking  through  the  hroad  leaves  and  lighting  them  with  a  pure 
transparent  green.  Squirrels  harked  at  us  from  the  trees;  cove\s 
of  young  partridges  ran  rustling  over  the  leaves  below,  and  the 
golden  oriole,  the  blue  jay,  and  the  flaming  red-bird  darted  among 
the  shadowy  branches.  We  hailed  these  sights  and  sounds  of  beauty 
by^  no  means  with  an  unmingled  pleasure.  Many  and  powerful  as 
were  the  attractions  which  drew  us  toward  the  settlements,  we 
looked  back  even  at  that  moment  with  an  eager  longing  toward  the 
wilderness  of  prairies  and  mountains  behind  us.  For  myself  I  had 
sufifered  more  that  summer  from  illness  than  ever  before  in  my  life, 


TiiK  (  )kk(;()N  Tkaii. 


2^/) 


and  yd  to  tins  lionr  I  cannot  recall  thoHc  sava^jr  scrncs  and  savage 
men  witliotit  a  stmn^^  desire  a^'ain  to  visit  tliein. 

At  length,  for  the  first  time  dnrin^  al»otit  half  a  yrar,  wc  saw  the 
roof  of  a  white  man's  dwelling  hetwcen  the  opening  trees.  A  few 
moments  after  we  were  ridin^j  over  the  miserahlo  lo^;  hrid^e  that 
leads  into  the  center  of  Westport.  Westport  had  heheld  stranj^'e 
scenes,  hnt  a  ronj^dur  looking'  troop  than  <»nrs,  with  onr  worn  e(|nip- 
ments  and  hroken  down  horses,  was  never  seen  even  there.  We 
passed  the  well-rememhered  tavern,  Hoone's  >;rocery  and  old 
Voj^a'Ps  dram  shop,  and  encam|)ed  on  a  meadow  heyond.  Here  wc 
were  soon  visited  hy  a  nnmher  of  jx'ople  who  came  to  |)tirrhas(;  our 
horses  and  e<|nipa)L,'e.  This  matter  disposed  of,  we  hired  a  wa^on 
and  drove  on  to  Kansas  Landin;^.  Here  we  were  a^jain  received 
under  the  hospitahle  rtMif  of  our  old  friend  Colonel  Chick,  and 
seated  under  his  porch  we  looked  down  once  more  on  the  eddies  of 
the  Missouri. 

Dcloricr  made  his  appearance  in  the  morning,  stran^'ely  trans- 
formed hy  the  assistance  of  a  hat,  a  coat,  and  a  ra/.or.  flis  little 
log-house  was  amonj;  the  woods  not  far  off.  It  seemed  he  had  medi- 
tated giving  a  hall  on  the  occasion  of  his  return,  and  had  consulted 
Henry  Cliatillon  as  to  whether  it  would  do  to  invite  his  bourgeois, 
Henry  expressed  his  entire  conviction  that  we  would  not  take  it 
amiss,  and  the  invitation  was  now  proffered,  accordingly,  Delorier 
adding  as  a  special  inducement  that  Antoinc  Lejeunesse  was  to 
play  the  fiddle.  We  told  him  we  would  certainly  come,  hut  before 
the  evening  arrived  a  steamboat,  which  came  down  from  Fort 
Leavenworth,  prevented  our  being  present  at  the  expected  festivi- 
ties. Delorier  was  on  the  rock  at  the  landing  place,  waiting  to  take 
leave  of  us. 

*' Adieu!  mes  bourgeois;  adieu!  adieu!"  he  cried  out  as  the  boat 
pulled  ofT ;  "when  you  go  another  time  to  de  Rocky  Montagnes  I 
will  go  with  you ;  yes,  I  will  go  I" 

He  accompanied  this  patronizing  assurance  by  jumping  about 
swinging  his  hat,  and  grinning  from  ear  to  ear.  As  the  boat 
rounded  a  distant  point,  the  last  object  that  met  our  eyes  was 
Delorier  still  lifting  his  hat  and  skipping  about  the  rock.  We  had 
taken  leave  of  Munroe  and  Jim  Gurney  at  Westport,  and  Henry 
Chatillon  went  down  in  the  boat  with  us. 


300 


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The  passage  to  St.  Louis  occupied  eight  days,  during  about  a 
third  of  which  we  were  fast  aground  on  sand-bars.  We  passed  the 
steamer  Amelia  crowded  with  a  roaring  crew  of  disbanded  volun- 
teers, swearing,  drinking,  gambling,  and  fighting.  At  length  one 
evening  we  reached  the  crowded  levee  of  St.  Louis.  Repairing  to 
the  Planters*  House,  we  caused  diligent  search  to  be  made  for  our 
trunks,  which  after  some  time  were  discovered  stowed  away  in  the 
farthest  corner  of  the  storeroom.  In  the  morning  we  hardly  recog- 
nized each  other ;  a  frock  of  broadcloth  had  supplanted  the  frock 
of  buckskin;  well-fitted  pantaloons  took  the  place  of  the  Indian 
leggings,  and  polished  boots  were  substituted  for  the  gaudy  moc- 
casins. 

After  we  had  been  several  days  at  St.  Louis  we  heard  news  of 
Tete  Rouge.  He  had  contrived  to  reach  Fort  Leavenworth,  where 
he  had  found  the  paymaster  and  received  his  money.  As  a  boat  was 
just  ready  to  start  for  St.  Louis,  he  went  on  board  and  engaged  his 
passage.  This  done,  he  immediately  got  drunk  on  shore,  and  the 
boat  went  off  without  him.  It  was  some  days  before  another  oppor- 
tunity occurred,  and  meanwhile  the  sutler's  stores  furnished  him 
with  abundant  means  of  keeping  up  his  spirits.  Another  steamboat 
came  at  last,  the  clerk  of  which  happened  to  be  a  friend  of  his,  and 
by  the  advice  of  some  charitable  person  on  shore  he  persuaded  Tete 
Rouge  to  remain  on  board,  intending  to  detain  him  there  until  the 
boat  should  leave  the  fort.  At  first  Tete  Rouge  was  well  contented 
with  this  arrangement,  but  on  applying  for  a  dram,  the  bar- 
keeper, at  the  clerk's  instigation,  refused  to  let  him  have  it.  Find- 
ing them  both  inflexible  in  spite  of  his  entreaties,  he  became  des- 
perate and  made  his  escape  from  the  boat.  The  clerk  found  him 
after  a  long  search  in  one  of  the  barracks;  a  circle  of  dragoons 
stood  contemplating  him  as  he  lay  on  the  floor,  maudlin  drunk  and 
crying  dismally.  With  the  help  of  one  of  them  the  clerk  pushed 
him  on  board,  and  our  informant,  who  came  down  in  the  same  boat, 
declares  that  he  remained  in  great  despondency  during  the  whole 
passage.  As  we  left  St.  Louis  soon  after  his  arrival,  we  did  not  see 
the  worthless,  good-natured  little  vagabond  again. 

On  the  evening  before  our  departure  Henry  Chatillon  came  to 
our  rooms  at  the  Planters*  House  to  take  leave  of  us.  No  one  who 
met  him  in  the  streets  of  St.  Louis  would  have  taken  him  for  a 
hunter  fresh  from  the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  was  very  neatly  and 


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301 


simply  dressed  in  a  suit  of  dark  cloth ;  for  although,  since  his  six- 
teenth year,  he  had  scarcely  been  for  a  month  together  among  the 
abodes  of  men,  he  had  a  native  good  taste  and  a  sense  of  propriety 
which  always  led  him  to  pay  great  attention  to  his  personal  appear- 
ance. His  tall  athletic  figure,  with  its  easy  flexible  motions,  ap- 
peared to  advantage  in  his  present  dress ;  and  his  fine  face,  though 
roughened  by  a  thousand  storms,  was  not  at  all  out  of  keeping  with 
it.  We  took  leave  of  him  with  much  regret ;  and  unless  his  changing 
features,  as  he  shook  us  by  the  hand,  belied  him,  the  feeling  on  his 
part  was  no  less  than  on  ours.  Shaw  had  given  him  a  horse  at 
Westport.  My  rifle,  which  he  had  always  been  fond  of  using,  as  it 
was  an  excellent  piece,  much  better  than  his  own,  is  now  in  his 
hands,  and  perhaps  at  this  moment  its  sharp  voice  is  startling  the 
echoes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  On  the  next  morning  we  left  town, 
and  after  a  fortnight  of  railroads  and  steamboat  we  saw  once  more 
the  familiar  features  of  home. 


